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IUBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 
SAN  DIEGQ 


IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 


DID  I  FRIGHTEN  YOU? 


IN  THE  SHADOW 
OF  ISLAM 

BY 

DEMETRA  VAKA 

(MRS.  KENNETH-BROWN) 

WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS   BY 
E.  POLLAK-OTTENDORFF 


L  on  Iron 

CONSTABLE  &   CO.   LIMITED 

BOSTON   AND   NEW   YORK 

HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN    COMPANY 
1911 

ft 

ft 


COPYRIGHT,   igil,   BY  DEMETRA  VAKA    KENNETH-BROWN 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


URL 


TO  ANNA  FULLER 
MY  "SISTER"  AND  SUNSHINE 

I  DEDICATE 
THIS  "  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM  " 


CONTENTS 

I.  MILLICENT  GREY .  1 

II.  THE  TURK  AND  THE  ARMENIAN 10 

III.  A  GIANT  ASLEEP 20 

IV.  THE  HOOT  OF  THE  OWL 35 

V.  THE  CLASH  OF  NATIONALITIES 45 

VI.  THE  PASHA  OF  ALBANIA  DISCOVERS  A  BEAUTY  .  .  53 

VII.  THE  CRAFT  OF  THE  PASHA 58 

VIII.  MECHMET'S  REWARD 69 

IX.  CAJOLING  THE  ALBANIAN  CHIEFS 74 

X.  WHAT  THE  PASHA  THOUGHT  OF  HIMSELF  ....  80 

XI.  THE  BRIDE  OF  ALBANIA 83 

XII.  TRAJAH  SULTANA 86 

XIII.  ORKHAN'S  MOTHER       .      .      .      .      .      .      .      .      .92 

XIV.  RIGHO'S  SISTER 98 

XV.  THE  STEPSONS  OF  TURKEY 109 

XVI.   SMOKING  LAMPS 114 

XVII.  A  MODERN  NAUSIKAA 120 

XVIII.   ELPIS  ASKS  FOR  A  SIGN 123 

XIX.  IN  THE  LIGHT  OF  ISLAM 129 

XX.  KISMET! 141 

XXI.  THE  REFLECTION  IN  THE  MIRROR 150 

XXII.   BROTHER  AND  SISTER          154 

XXIII.  THE  EAST  CLAIMS  HER  SON                                             .  165 


viii  CONTENTS 


XXIV.  A  SULTANA  IN  LOVE 169 

XXV.  ON  DANGEROUS  GROUND 173 

XXVI.  IN  DISGUISE 178 

XXVII.  MALKHATOUN         183 

XXVIII.  THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  CYPRESS  TREES      .      .      .  191 

XXIX.   THERE  is  No  GOD  BUT  GOD 202 

XXX.   "AND  THE  STARS  BE  OUR  WITNESS"    ....  208 

XXXI.  THE  ROCKET  IN  THE  SKY 214 

XXXII.  BEHIND  HASSAN'S  SHOP 218 

XXXIII.  WHERE  ELPIS  REMAINS  SILENT 227 

XXXIV.  A  HOURI 234 

XXXV.  THE  GIRL  FROM  THE  EAST  AND  THE  GIRL  FROM  THE 

WEST 239 

XXXVI.   "You  ARE  A  WOMAN  — AND  so  AM  I"     .      .      .  248 

XXXVII.  ORKHAN  THE  TURK 254 

XXXVHI.  FREE 262 

XXXIX.  DEFEAT 264 

XL.  A  COUNTER-MOVE 269 

XLI.  THE  SEARCH 274 

XLII.  A  LEAF  FROM  THE  PAST 282 

XLIII.  THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  TURKS 293 

XLIV.  THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  GREEKS 300 

XLV.  THE  LAST  CHAPTER  .      .  310 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

DID  I  FRIGHTEN  YOU  ?     (p.  208) Frontispiece 

I    SALUTE   MY    SULTANA 67 

WHY  DID  I  DO  IT  ? 152 

COMME  LES    EAUX    BLONDES    D'uNE    CASCADE     .          .  .    242 


IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 


MILLICENT  GREY 

THE  Bridge  of  Galata  was  swarming  with  people, 
a  stream  of  them  coming  from  Stamboul,  another 
going  thither.   It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  the 
setting  sun  bathed  the  capital  of  Sultan  Abdul  Hamid 
in  warm  dazzling  colors. 

A  girl,  tall  and  straight,  with  the  free  and  independ 
ent  American  bearing,  was  hastening  toward  the 
bridge.  As  she  passed  the  caracol,  the  zaptiehs  sta 
tioned  there  watched  her  admiringly.  One  of  the  sol 
diers  even  saluted  her,  unconsciously. 

Millicent  Grey  was  oblivious  of  the  homage  paid 
her:  her  clear  blue-gray  eyes  contained  no  conscious 
ness  of  her  radiant  beauty;  her  firm  lips,  though  they 
might  have  been  chiseled  by  the  hand  of  Praxiteles 
himself,  indicated  that  vanity  and  coquetry  had  small 
part  in  her. 

She  paid  her  toll  of  a  penny  to  one  of  the  white- 
coated  toll-gatherers,  and  stepped  on  the  bridge. 
There  she  hesitated,  looking  to  the  right  and  to  the 
left:  on  both  sides  were  wooden  steps,  leading  down  to 
floating  landings,  and  at  all  the  landings  she  saw 
steamers,  bewilderingly  alike.  A  sense  of  location 


2  IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

was  not  one  of  her  strong  points,  and  wrinkle  her 
pretty  brows  as  she  might,  she  could  not  remember 
which  was  the  right  landing. 

She  turned  back  to  the  toll-gatherer,  who  had  taken 
her  penny,  and  pronounced  distinctly  "Bosphorus!" 
The  Turk  smiled  at  her,  still  gathering  pennies  with 
both  hands.  It  was  his  busiest  hour;  but  with  his  eyes 
and  a  tilt  of  his  head,  he  indicated  the  left  side  of  the 
bridge.  She  thanked  him  and  walked  on.  Yet  her  per 
plexity  was  only  a  little  lessened,  for  as  she  now  per 
ceived,  there  were  several  boats  on  that  left  side.  But 
she  was  young  and  fearless,  and  this  seemed  almost  an 
adventure.  The  novelty  of  it  all  crowded  out  her 
anxiety. 

When  she  had  come  down  from  Therapia  in  the 
morning  with  her  uncle,  who  was  attached  to  the 
American  Embassy,  they  had  hastened  from  the  boat 
to  a  cab,  and  without  a  backward  glance  had  driven 
up  to  Pera.  Now  a  glorious  panorama  lay  before  her 
eyes,  and  the  whole  scene  had  an  entirely  strange  as 
pect.  Being  alone,  there  was  nothing  to  distract  her 
from  the  sights  of  this  most  picturesque  of  cities. 

Directly  in  front  of  her  lay  Stamboul,  besprinkled 
with  minarets,  striving  to  reach  Allah's  blue  throne. 
Above  the  city,  as  above  the  Golden  Horn  and  the 
Sea  of  Marmora,  a  multitude  of  sea  gulls  were  flying, 
executing  in  the  air,  with  astonishing  rapidity,  every 
possible  graceful  movement. 


MILLICENT  GREY 


The  American  girl  stood  gazing,  first  at  the  Mussul 
man  city  before  her,  stretching  gracefully  into  the 
different  seas,  and  then  at  the  European  city  behind 
her,  on  its  seven  hills,  and  dominated  by  the  Tower  of 
Galata,  which  was  built  by  the  Genovese  when  for  a 
brief  period  they  were  masters  here. 

At  this  hour  the  Golden  Horn,  in  the  golden  light  of 
the  sunset,  was  justifying  its  name,  and  the  Sea  of 
Marmora  and  the  Bosphorus,  with  their  vivid  delf 
blue,  accentuated  the  gold  of  their  neighbor.  Caiques 
and  swift  barges  of  all  sizes  and  forms  were  being  pro 
pelled  over  the  waters.  It  was  the  best  hour  of  the 
day  to  be  on  the  bridge,  and  the  girl  stood  looking  at 
the  enchanting  scenery,  and  at  the  people  in  their 
curious  garbs,  —  for  each  nationality  parades  its  own 
in  Turkey,  —  who  were  so  unconscious  of  the  part 
they  played  in  the  heterogeneous  whole.  Even  Milli- 
cent,  as  she  watched  the  others  and  wondered  if  they 
realized  how  different  they  were  from  each  other,  did 
not  think  that  she,  too,  was  adding  to  the  heterogene- 
ousness  which  fascinated  her.  Her  yellow  gold  hair, 
her  white  linen  suit,  and  her  radiant  Anglo-Saxon 
beauty,  made  her  as  different  from  the  other  women 
on  the  bridge  as  her  country  was  different  from 
Turkey. 

From  her  contemplation  she  was  roused  by  some 
one  pulling  at  her  skirt,  and  looking  down  she  saw 
a  half  man,  sewed  in  a  leather  tray.  On  his  hands  he 


4  IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

wore  wooden  sandals,  for  walking;  and  one  of  these 
hands,  hard  and  calloused,  he  held  out  to  her.  In  her 
health  and  strength  the  sight  was  pitiful,  and  to  his 
wailing  plea  she  opened  her  purse  and  gave  him  all  the 
coppers  she  had. 

A  shrill  whistle  from  the  landing  below  reminded 
her  of  her  journey,  and  she  ran  down  the  wooden 
steps.  Another  whistle  and  the  American  girl  has 
tened  still  faster.  She  waved  her  slip  of  green  paper  to 
the  man  at  the  gate,  and  passed  through  —  a  few 
seconds  too  late. 

The  boat  was  in  motion. 

"Oh,  stop!"  she  cried.  But  the  strip  of  water  be 
tween  her  and  the  boat  only  widened. 

The  men  at  the  gangway  were  trying  to  convey  to 
her,  with  expressive  gestures,  that  she  had  lost  the 
boat,  which  she  was  quite  well  aware  of  already. 

At  this  instant  she  noticed  that  in  turning  the  stern 
of  the  steamer  was  swinging  in  toward  the  landing. 
A  few  seconds  later  it  almost  grazed  it;  and  Millicent, 
holding  her  bag  tight  in  one  hand,  and  clutching  her 
short  skirt  with  the  other,  sprang  on  the  boat,  before 
the  men  on  the  landing  had  guessed  her  intention. 

From  the  spectators  there  rose  a  cry  of  admiration. 
Somewhat  flushed  and  embarrassed,  the  girl  made  her 
way  to  the  first-class  upper  deck,  which  was  already 
crowded.  Several  men  rose  and  offered  her  their 
stools.  She  accepted  one  near  the  railing  and  sat 


MILLICENT  GREY 


down,  trying  to  make  herself  as  inconspicuous  as  pos 
sible.  From  her  bag  she  took  out  a  fan  and  plied  it  to 
cool  her  flushed  cheeks.  The  fanning  made  several 
stray  locks  of  hair,  which  had  escaped  from  under  her 
hat,  fly  up  and  down.  It  was  not  unbecoming. 

The  heat  of  the  day  began  to  wane  as  the  breeze 
came  up  from  the  Black  Sea.  Millicent  put  away  her 
fan,  and  gave  herself  over  to  enjoying  the  sail.  The 
Sultan's  capital,  now  bathed  in  the  colors  of  the  after 
glow  and  retreating  into  the  distance,  offered  her  a 
new  enchantment;  and  she  forgot  those  about  her, 
forgot  all  except  her  hopes  and  dreams  for  this  coun 
try,  where  the  sun  was  setting  in  such  wondrous 
colors,  yet  where  the  sun  of  modern  civilization  never 
yet  had  risen. 

Her  thoughts  flew  back  to  the  happenings  of  the 
last  few  months.  She  could  hardly  believe  that  she, 
Millicent  Grey,  of  Boston,  was  actually  here.  Nothing 
had  been  further  from  her  expectations,  in  June,  when 
she  had  sat  in  her  room  at  Radcliffe  and  pondered  on 
what  her  future  life  was  to  be.  The  examinations  were 
then^over,  and  only  the  final  festivities  of  Class  Day 
remained  before  she  should  go  from  this  little  world 
beneath  the  Washington  Elm  into  the  great  world  out 
side.  She  knew  that  she  was  to  have  her  degree,  with 
frills  -  "cum  laude"  was  the  official  term. 

Unlike  some  of  her  classmates,  she  felt  little  regret 
at  the  thought  of  leaving  college.  It  had  always  been 


6  IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

to  her,  more  than  to  most  of  her  companions,  only  a 
period  of  preparation.  The  real  interest  was  to  what 
use  she  should  put  this  long  period  of  schooling.  Like 
all  generous  youth,  Millicent  could  not  bear  the 
thought  of  frittering  away  her  life  without  doing  any 
thing  for  this  great  world  which  lay  at  her  feet,  dumbly 
entreating  her  to  stoop  and  help  it  to  rise.  Yet  the 
practical  problem,  just  exactly  what  to  do,  could  not 
easily  be  answered. 

Like  many  modern  girls  she  did  not  look  upon  mat 
rimony  as  a  career.  It  might  come  to  her.  Poetry  and 
romance  told  her  that  it  probably  would.  But  as  yet 
her  heart  was  untouched,  and  it  seemed  a  far-distant 
realm,  this  realm  of  love;  and  she  was  too  vividly 
alive  to  wait  for  the  distantly  possible,  when  the  real 
and  actual  lay  all  around  her. 

Millicent  was  an  orphan,  and  rich.  Hence  the  most 
interesting  of  all  problems,  that  of  making  a  liveli 
hood,  was  removed  from  her  life.  Although  not  lack 
ing  in  a  wholesome  and  normal  liking  for  pleasure, 
that,  like  matrimony,  was  to  her  an  incident  of  life,  not 
a  possible  object  of  living. 

Yet  none  of  the  openings  for  her  efforts  immediately 
at  hand  appealed  to  her.  There  were  already  so  many 
well-intentioned  workers  for  all  the  work  to  be  done. 
Sometimes  she  thought  there  were  more  workers  up 
lifting  humanity  than  there  remained  humanity  to  be 
uplifted.  All  seemed  so  thoroughly  charted  and 


MILLICENT  GREY 


mapped,  here  in  America.  Millicent  longed  for  some 
virgin  fields  to  work  in,  some  places  where  the  power 
she  felt  welling  up  within  her  should  find  adequate 
foes  to  combat.  She  wished  to  take  up  no  calling  to 
which  she  could  give  only  lukewarm  enthusiasm. 

At  this  time  there  came  to  her  a  letter  from  an  aunt 
whose  husband  was  connected  with  the  Embassy  at 
Constantinople,  inviting  her  to  come  and  pay  her  a 
long  visit.  The  suggestion  seemed  providential.  It 
was  a  hand  beckoning  to  her  from  the  East,  where  all 
was  yet  unenlightened.  Her  ideas  as  to  what  she  would 
do  when  she  got  there  were  quite  hazy;  but  this 
troubled  her  not  at  all.  She  felt  herself  an  explorer, 
and  the  explorer  can  never  tell  what  he  will  find.  He 
searches  for  a  passage  to  India  and  discovers  America. 
After  she  had  been  there  awhile  she  could  tell  better 
what  was  to  be  done.  There,  there  were  surely  the 
hosts  of  darkness  to  combat.  There,  womanhood  was 
the  subject  of  man's  baser  side.  There,  were  the  Ar 
menians  —  but  others  were  already  interested  in  the 
Armenians.  She  meant  to  fly  higher  and  charge  the 
very  homes  of  the  Turks  themselves. 

Her  aunt's  promise  of  a  good  time  was  not  without 
its  allurement,  but  it  was  not  what  chiefly  attracted 
her.  It  was  the  opportunity  for  seeing  at  first-hand 
what  needed  to  be  done  in  this  bit  of  darkest  Europe. 
When  she  thoroughly  understood  this,  she  could  come 
home  and  enlist  American  Womanhood  in  the  fight  — 


8  IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

and  what  power  of  heathendom  or  reaction  could 
withstand  the  determined  charge  of  American  Wo 
manhood?  Certainly  Millicent  could  imagine  none. 

Now  she  had  been  in  Turkey  for  some  weeks.  Thus 
far  she  had  been  lost  in  the  sheer  intoxication  of  the 
new  sensations  it  afforded  her.  She  had  never  been  out 
of  America  before,  except  for  a  brief  vacation  trip  to 
England,  and  she  felt  as  if  she  could  not  study  this 
strange  new  world  enough.  She  began  to  perceive 
that  the  problem  of  regenerating  Turkey  was  bigger 
than  she  had  imagined.  There  were  no  handles  offered 
the  well-meaning  to  take  hold  of  for  pulling  it  out 
of  the  slough.  Indeed,  Millicent  was  rather  surprised 
to  grasp  the  fact  that  it  did  not  seem  to  wish  to  be 
pulled  out.  The  yearning  for  uplift  had  not  struck 
Turkey;  but  she  put  these  practical  considerations 
off.  For  the  present  it  was  enough  to  observe  —  to 
see  —  to  take  in  herself.  Afterward  would  be  time  to 
give  out. 

Meanwhile  the  steamer  she  had  boarded  so  cava 
lierly  was  proceeding  steadily  on  its  course,  and  Milli 
cent,  recalling  herself  from  her  vagrant  meditations, 
began  to  have  an  uneasy  feeling  that  it  was  not  going 
in  the  right  direction. 

When  the  boat  passed  the  point  which  divides  the 
Sea  of  Marmora  from  the  Bosphorus,  she  looked  at 
the  Serai  Bournou  and  at  the  retreating  shores  of  the 
river,  and  felt  a  moral  conviction  that  the  scenery  was 


MILLICENT  GREY  9 

different  from  that  which  she  had  seen  in  the  morning, 
coming  down. 

She  had  a  spasm  of  fright,  as  the  certainty  of  her 
mistake  came  upon  her.  She  had  taken  the  wrong 
boat. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  TURK  AND   THE  ARMENIAN 

MILLICENT'S  momentary  fright  was  succeeded 
by  a  rush  of  elation.  It  was  too  interesting  and 
jolly  for  alarm.  After  all,  she  had  only  to  get  off  at 
the  first  landing  and  take  the  next  steamer  back.  Her 
pride  did  wince,  however,  as  she  remembered  the  dis 
cussion  with  her  aunt  before  setting  out  that  morn 
ing: - 

"No,  my  dear  Millicent,  you  must  not  come  back 
alone.  Why,  child,  I  have  been  here  a  year,  and  I  can 
hardly  turn  around  by  myself.  It  isn't  as  if  you  could 
speak  Turkish,  or  even  Greek  —  and  these  people 
don't  seem  to  understand  any  English." 

Millicent,  with  the  rash  self-confidence  of  American 
girlhood,  had  insisted  that  she  was  fully  capable  of 
taking  care  of  herself,  although  she  had  been  to  town 
only  twice  with  her  uncle,  until  Mrs.  Appleby,  who 
preferred  anything  to  a  discussion,  had  given  in. 

The  result  was  now  humiliating  to  the  young  ad 
venturer. 

Unlike  those  that  went  up  the  Bosphorus,  the  boat 
puffed  along  for  an  hour  without  making  a  stop.  The 
crowd  of  many  nations  did  not  seem  to  care  for  the 
scenery  as  she  did.  To  most  of  them  it  was  a  matter 


THE  TURK  AND  THE  ARMENIAN     11 

of  daily  routine,  and  they  were  more  anxious  to  land 
than  to  gaze  about  them.  The  men,  by  the  failing 
light,  were  reading  the  papers.  This  is  the  usual  occu 
pation  of  the  male,  in  going  to  and  from  his  business, 
even  when  he  knows  that  a  severe  censorship  has  left 
little  worth  reading  in  the  paper.  Several  of  the  Turks 
were  playing  backgammon,  while  some  European 
men  were  talking  to  the  Christian  women  whom  they 
happened  to  know.  The  Turkish  women  were  invisi 
ble,  behind  the  canvas  partition  which  kept  them 
separate  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  even  in  traveling. 

Millicent  was  aware  that  she  was  stared  at  too  long 
and  too  openly.  But  though  she  had  been  only  a  short 
time  in  this  land,  she  had  learned  not  to  resent  it. 
From  her  aunt  she  had  heard  that  in  Turkey  staring 
was  only  a  respectful  homage  to  beauty.  In  the  looks 
of  the  men  whose  eyes  were  upon  her  there  was  some 
thing  impersonal,  something  akin  to  the  admiration 
she  was  bestowing  on  the  landscape.  They  did  not 
mean  to  annoy  her,  any  more  than  she  meant  to 
offend  the  dark-blue  Oriental  sky,  or  the  gray -blue  sea 
framing  the  land  which  enchanted  her.  They  gazed 
upon  her  as  something  beautiful,  made  by  the  Creator 
for  the  pleasure  of  mankind. 

There  were  two  men,  however,  upon  whom  she 
made  more  than  a  passing  impression.  The  one  was 
an  Armenian,  short  and  stout,  with  large,  black, 
dreamy  eyes.  He  looked  at  her  and  caressed  his  black 


IS  IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

moustache,  and  looked  at  her  again  in  a  way  that 
Millicent's  brother,  had  she  had  one,  would  have 
resented. 

The  other  man  was  a  tall,  slender  young  Osmanli. 
He  was  the  kind  of  a  Turk  who  attracts  the  attention 
of  Europeans,  not  only  for  his  physical  perfection, 
but  also  for  the  light  which  shines  in  his  eyes,  a  light 
both  intellectual  and  spiritual.  He  was  manifestly 
a  dreamer — such  as  the  Young  Turks  Party  drew  its 
most  devoted  followers  from  at  that  time.  His  hair 
and  moustache  were  blue-black,  his  eyes  dark  blue, 
and  his  skin  olive.  He  moved  proudly  among  the 
crowd  on  the  boat,  in  the  Osmanli  consciousness 
of  superiority  of  race.  He  walked  collectedly  as  a 
panther.  There  was  something  exquisitely  delicate 
about  him,  which  in  another  man  might  have  been 
effeminate. 

From  his  position  he  could  see  the  American  girl 
without  being  noticed  by  her.  His  look  was  not  per 
sistent.  Through  half-closed  eyes  he  gazed  at  her, 
then  his  glance  traveled  to  the  horizon,  while  his  ex 
pression  became  more  dreamy,  more  remote.  He  might 
have  been  a  painter  visualizing  the  picture  he  meant 
to  paint,  or  a  musician  listening  to  the  chords  of  the 
symphony  he  was  to  compose. 

At  length  he  caught  sight  of  the  Armenian,  whose 
languorous  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  face  of  the  girl, 
and  then  the  dreamer  vanished  from  the  face  of  the 


THE  TURK  AND  THE  ARMENIAN     13 

young  Turk.  The  mystic  became  lost  in  the  fighter. 
The  Mussulman  blood,  which,  when  roused,  knows  no 
pity,  awoke  in  him.  From  that  moment  he  did  not  lose 
sight  of  the  Armenian.  The  latter  did  not  chance  to  meet 
his  glance,  or  he  might  have  taken  warning  from  it. 

At  this  time  the  steamer  was  approaching  the  stone 
pier  which  projects  from  the  island  of  Eibeli. 

Millicent  rose,  like  the  others,  and  stood  undecided 
whether  to  speak  to  some  one  here  on  the  boat,  or  to 
wait  until  she  was  on  the  pier.  She  was  so  engrossed 
with  her  own  affairs  that  she  did  not  notice  the  Arme 
nian,  until,  in  the  crowding  around  the  gangway,  she 
felt  a  soft,  fat  hand  touching  her. 

Brusquely  she  moved  away,  and  a  minute  later  was 
down  on  the  quay.  There  she  halted  for  an  instant, 
forgetful  of  her  predicament,  and  looked  up  at  the 
island  rising  steeply,  high  into  the  air,  covered  with 
pine  trees,  among  which  the  summer  residences  were 
half  hidden. 

From  her  contemplation  she  was  roused  by  a  voice, 
soft  and  drawling :  - 

"Vous  etes  bien  belle,  mademoiselle." 

It  was  the  Armenian. 

The  red  mounted  to  Millicent's  cheeks,  and  her 
eyes  flashed  with  indignation.  Men  had  stared,  but 
he  was  the  first  who  had  dared  address  her. 

The  Armenian,  quite  oblivious  of  her  distaste, 
thrust  his  face  toward  hers,  and  said  insinuatingly:  — 


14          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"Vous  dtes  faites  pour  des  caresses." 

The  girl  began  to  be  frightened.  Every  one  on  the 
pier  seemed  so  intent  on  his  own  business,  and  the 
Armenian  so  confident.  She  stepped  away  from  him. 
He  followed  her,  and  his  lips  were  parted  for  another 
sentence,  when  the  Turk,  who  had  been  delayed  on 
the  gangway,  came  up. 

Gravely  he  kicked  the  Armenian  off  the  pier.  It 
was  done  with  an  air  of  courtesy,  as  if  he  were  re 
moving  an  obstruction  from  her  path. 

Millicent  found  herself  murmuring,  "Thank  you!" 

The  crowd  surged  onward,  hardly  deigning  a  glance 
at  the  incident.  Only  an  official  hurried  up,  and  asked 
how  the  Armenian  had  happened  to  fall  into  the 
water. 

"Ask  him,"  the  Turk  replied.  Turning  to  Millicent 
he  said  in  English:  "Is  there  not  something  else  I  can 
do  for  you?  Are  you  not  in  trouble?" 

"Will  not  the  man  drown?"  she  anxiously  inquired. 

"He  is  only  an  Armenian,"  he  answered  indiffer 
ently,  "but  he  will  not  drown.  Some  one  will  throw 
him  a  rope  —  see !  But  you  are  alone.  Do  you  know 
your  way  ?  Where  are  your  people  ?  " 

"I  —  I  don't  know.  That  is  to  say,  they  are  at 
Therapia,  —  and  I  took  the  wrong  boat.  I  am  a 
stranger  here,  so  I  don't  know  just  what  to  do — but 
I  am  so  much  obliged  to  you  for  —  er  —  ' 

A  smile  lit  up  the  rather  stern  face  of  the  Turk,  a 


THE  TURK  AND  THE  ARMENIAN     15 

smile  which  called  an  answering  one  from  the  Ameri 
can  girl. 

"  You  have  come  in  just  the  opposite  direction  from 
where  you  wished  to  go  —  and  there  is  no  way  for 
you  to  get  there  to-night,"  he  said. 

"Then  what  am  I  to  do?" 

Millicent  had  the  pleasant  trust  of  American  women 
that  every  stranger  —  except  such  creatures  as  the 
dripping  one,  slinking  off  the  end  of  the  pier  —  would 
be  only  too  eager  to  help  a  woman  out  of  a  difficulty. 

The  boat's  whistle  sounded,  and  the  Turk  turned 
quickly :  — 

"  Come  on  the  boat  again.  It  is  going  on  to  Bou- 
youk-Ada,  and  there  I  can  help  you." 

They  hurried  aboard  the  boat,  and  only  after  it  was 
under  way  did  Millicent  think  —  aloud :  — 

"I  suppose  I  could  have  gone  to  a  hotel  on  this 
island." 

The  Turk  hesitated,  and  said  at  last:  — 

"It  is  difficult  for  a  young  lady  who  is  not  known 
and  is  alone  to  find  accommodations  at  a  hotel." 

"But  you  could  have  told  them,  could  you  not?" 

He  looked  out  over  the  water  without  replying. 

Millicent  grew  annoyed  at  his  impassivity.  She 
was  not  used,  in  men,  to  a  manner  so  detached  as  his. 
They  usually  summoned  whatever  vivacity  they  pos 
sessed  to  try  to  please  her. 

"Why  don't  you  answer  me?"  she  demanded. 


16          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

He  turned  his  calm  gaze  from  the  waves  to  her. 

"You  said  you  were  a  newcomer  here?" 

"I  have  been  here  only  two  weeks." 

"I  am  an  Osmanli,  and  we  do  not  go  about  with 
women." , 

The  announcement  of  his  nationality  came  as  a 
shock  to  Millicent.  It  gave  her  a  momentary  feeling 
of  repulsion  to  him,  but  the  charm  of  his  personality 
dispelled  this. , 

"You  are  not  English,  —  you  are  American,  are 
you  not?"  he  continued. 

"Yes." 

"On  the  next  island  I  know  a  compatriot  of  yours. 
Mrs.  Newbury  is  hername.  She  will  takecare  of  you." 

The  boat  was  already  approaching  the  island.  They 
landed  on  a  stone  pier  longer  than  the  other. 

The  Turk  helped  her  down  the  gangway  with  a  dis 
tant  consideration,  and  walked  along  beside  her  with 
out  speaking. 

On  the  shore  hundreds  of  people  were  waiting  for 
their  friends,  forming  a  human  hedge  through  which 
they  passed.  There  were  gay  dresses  of  women  of  all 
nationalities,  except  Turkish;  and  the  greetings  and 
exclamations  of  pleasure,  as  friends  recognized  each 
other  in  the  waning  light,  were  constant. 

Millicent  noticed  the  respectful  way  in  which  her 
escort  was  saluted,  and  she  began  to  wonder  who  he 
was.  Only  once  did  he  speak  to  her  during  their  short 


THE  TURK  AND  THE  ARMENIAN  17 

walk,  and  that  was  to  tell  her  to  go  slowly  and  not  to 
let  herself  be  carried  along  by  the  crowd. 

When  the  throng  had  dispersed,  he  took  Millicent 
to  one  of  the  open  cafes  and  found  her  a  place  at  a 
table  somewhat  hidden  from  the  public  eye. 

"If  you  will  sit  here,  I  will  be  back  in  not  more  than 
half  an  hour.  There  will  be  a  waiter  to  see  that  no 
body  annoys  you." 

"But  why  don't  you  take  me  to  the  American  lady 
now?" 

Again  the  Turk  hesitated.  "It  is  true  that  it  is 
growing  dark,  but  even  so  I  do  not  think  it  wise  that 
you  should  be  seen  alone  with  a  man." 

"Very  well,"  Millicent  answered,  curiously  touched 
at  his  chivalry. 

It  was  all  part  of  the  adventure:  the  lights  and 
music  from  the  cafe;  the  polyglot  chatter  that  reached 
her  ears ;  and  her  odd  champion  striding  off  in  her  be 
half  through  the  deepening  dark  outside. 

A  waiter  came  up  with  a  glass  of  sorbet,  and  took 
up  his  stand  at  a  little  distance  from  her.  He  had  none 
of  the  waiter's  ordinary  ingratiating  ways.  He  did  not 
even  look  at  her,  but  stood  silent  and  rigid. 

"I  guess  they  had  better  not  speak  to  me,"  Millicent 
reflected,  watching  the  unbending  figure  of  her  guard 
ian  with  a  whimsical  smile. 

Presently  the  thought  came  to  her  to  wonder  what 
would  happen  if  she  herself  tried  to  go  away  from  this 


18          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

spot.  There  were  now  only  a  few  persons  left  in  the 
cafe,  and  none  near  her.  Suppose  a  carriage  drove 
up  and  she  were  forced  into  it.  Would  any  resistance 
of  hers  avail,  or  summon  assistance?  "They  look  as 
if  they  would  take  a  thing  like  that  quite  calmly,'* 
she  thought.  "  I  believe  I  will  go  over  where  there  are 
more  people." 

She  stirred  in  her  seat,  and  her  guardian  cast  a 
severe  look  of  reproof  at  her. 

She  did  not  get  up.  "I  feel  just  about  five  years 
old  —  and  forbidden  to  move  from  my  chair,"  she 
thought  nervously. 

Below,  from  the  waters  of  the  Marmora,  a  boat 
man  was  singing  a  mane,  lying  in  his  little  caique,  while 
far,  far  away  the  faint  light  from  the  city  of  Stam- 
boul  shone  up  into  the  sky.  But  Millicent  was  no 
longer  able  to  enjoy  any  of  the  beauty  around  her. 
With  every  minute  that  passed  her  nervous  dread 
increased. 

The  instinctive  mistrust  of  Christian  for  Mussul 
man  came  back  to  her.  He  had  dispelled  it,  when  with 
her,  but  the  dark  and  the  silent  presence  of  her  jailer 
brought  every  horrible  possibility  to  her  mind.  WThat 
if  the  Turk  were  to  return  and  carry  her  off  where  no 
one  again  could  hear  of  her?  Such  things  happened, 
in  this  uncivilized  country. 

The  sound  of  carriage  wheels,  rapidly  driving  up, 
sent  a  crinkly  feeling  of  horror  over  all  her  skin  and  up 


THE  TURK  AND  THE  ARMENIAN     19 

among  the  roots  of  her  hair.  At  the  same  moment 
her  jailer  turned  toward  her,  as  if  to  be  ready  to  frus 
trate  any  attempt  at  escape.  For  once  in  her  life  she 
knew  what  it  was  to  be  so  frightened  that  she  was  in 
capable  either  of  moving  or  of  crying  out. 

The  carriage  stopped  at  a  little  distance,  and  rapid 
footsteps  came  toward  the  spot  where  she  was  sitting. 


CHAPTER  III 

A   GIANT   ASLEEP 

THIS  is  Mrs.  Newbury."  It  was  the  Turk  speak 
ing. 

"Why!  You  are  Miss  Grey,  are  you  not?'*  a  pretty 
lady  in  evening  dress  exclaimed,  as  she  shook  Milli- 
cent's  cold  hand.  "  I  thought  you  might  be,  from  what 
Orkhan  Effendi  told  me.  I  have  seen  you  with  Mr. 
Appleby  —  and  of  course  I  knew,  a  long  time  ago, 
that  our  colony  was  to  have  such  a  charming  visitor. 
Mr.  Newbury,  too,  is  an  attache." 

While  the  lady  was  talking,  Millicent  had  time  to 
pull  herself  together,  and  to  stifle  the  desire  to  burst 
into  hysterical  laughter,  or  tears,  she  did  not  know 
which. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  happened  to  live  here, "  she  managed 
to  say,  as  her  hostess  paused  for  breath.  "I  had  be 
come  pretty  frightened,  I  '11  admit.  One  certainly  can 
imagine  all  manner  of  things  occurring  here." 

"  Some  of  them  occur,  too,"  Mrs.  Newbury  added 
gayly.  "Have  you  telegraphed  to  your  uncle?" 

"How  stupid  of  me!  I  ought  to  have  sent  it  while 
I  was  waiting,"  Millicent  exclaimed. 

"If  Miss  Grey  will  let  me,  I  will  attend  to  that," 
Orkhan  Effendi  said. 


A  GIANT  ASLEEP  21 

"Yes,  let  him  do  it,  for  really  I  am  in  a  desperate 
hurry.  I  have  a  dinner  party  at  home,  but  this  fero 
cious  young  man  insisted  that  I  come  and  fetch  you 
myself.  We  must  hurry  back." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry."  Millicent  turned  to  Orkhan 
Effendi  with  a  smile  rendered  very  friendly  by  relief 
that  he  was  not  kidnaping  her:  "I  cannot  tell  you  how 
grateful  I  am  to  you  for  all  you  have  done  for  me." 

The  Turk  bowed  low  without  a  word. 

"Good-bye!  You  know  where  to  telegraph,"  Mrs. 
Newbury  said  when  they  were  at  the  carriage.  "It 
was  good  of  you  to  think  of  me  when  you  needed 
help." 

"It  is  not  hard  to  think  of  you  in  connection  with 
beautiful  things,"  he  answered,  and  stood  watching 
them  drive  out  of  sight,  up  the  steep  road  leading  to 
the  hills. 

Naturally  Millicent's  adventure  was  the  topic  of 
conversation  at  the  dinner  party  in  which  she  found 
herself  the  odd  number. 

Being  several  sizes  taller  than  her  hostess,  she  per 
force  remained  in  her  street  clothes.  Yet  in  her  simple 
white  linen  suit  she  made  a  very  charming  contrast. 

"I  could  have  asked  Orkhan  Effendi  to  balance  you," 
her  hostess  said,  "but  he  never  goes  to  dinner  parties 
where  there  are  women.  I  wonder  why,  for  he  does 
sometimes  come  to  our  garden  parties.  He  does  not 
seem  to  object  to  us  there." 


22          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"I  was  quite  surprised,"  said  Millicent,  "to  find 
a  Turk  so  chivalrous.  I  thought  they  were  anything 
but  that." 

"This  is  an  idea  you  have  imported  from  home," 
Mr.  Newbury  put  in.  "We  have  a  lot  of  established 
ideas  in  America  on  things  we  know  nothing  about. 
After  you  have  been  here  awhile  you  will  change  your 
opinions  of  the  Turks  in  a  good  many  respects.  They 
are  a  queer  mixture  of  bad  and  good,  and  we  only 
know  the  bad  side  of  them  at  home." 

On  the  other  side  of'Millicent  sat  a  Greek,  with  a 
high  forehead  and  a  large  mouth.  He  had  been  watch 
ing  her  with  interest,  but  up  to  now  had  taken  no 
part  in  the  conversation.  He  answered  to  the  name 
of  Righo,  which  was  the  middle  section  of  his  rather 
unwieldy  full  name  of  Paparighopoulos.  Suddenly 
he  asked  her :  — 

"Aside  from  the  service  he  rendered  you,  did  you 
like  your  Turkish  champion?" 

Millicent  answered  him  by  another  question :  — 

"Do  you  know  him?" 

"Yes,  I  know  him,"  he  answered  in  a  curiously  re 
served  tone.  Then,  as  if  feeling  that  she  might  make 
a  mistaken  deduction  from  his  manner,  he  added: 
"We  were  together  at  Oxford,  though  he  is  several 
years  younger  than  I." 

The  conversation  at  the  table  had  become  less  gen 
eral,  and  the  pairs  were  talking  together. 


A   GIANT  ASLEEP  23 

"Oh!  was  he  educated  at  Oxford?"  Millicent  asked 
with  surprise. 

"Yes." 

The  Greek  volunteered  no  more,  and  Millicent 
for  a  while  ate  in  silence;  then  she  turned  again  to 
him :  — • 

"In  spite  of  what  Mr.  Newbury  said,  is  n't  it  rather 
unusual  for  a  Turk  to  be  chivalrous  to  a  woman,  and 
especially  to  a  Christian  woman?" 

The  Greek  closed  his  eyes  for  a  second,  as  if  to  give 
her  speech  time  to  travel  to  his  brain.  When  he  opened 
them  the  suspicion  of  a  smile  was  on  his  lips. 

"You  said  that  before.  What  makes  you  think 
that  Turks  are  never  chivalrous  toward  women?" 

Millicent  again  ans\vered  him  with  a  question :  — 

"Are  they?  I  thought  that  to  them  women  were 
mere  trifles,  to  play  with  for  a  while,  to  shut  up  in  a 
box  all  by  themselves,  till  it  becomes  time  to  play  with 
them  again." 

Her  frank  and  serious  manner  charmed  the  Greek. 

"The  Osmanlis  are  poets,  par  excellence,"  he  re 
marked  gravely.  "Do  the  poets  look  upon  women  as 
mere  trifles?" 

Millicent  considered. 

"Who  is  Orkhan  Effendi?"  she  asked  directly. 

"An  Unspeakable  Turk." 

"He  told  me  that  himself." 

"Did  he  use  the  same  epithet?" 


24          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"No,  not  even  the  same  noun.  But  apart  from  Mr. 
Gladstone's  phrase  celebre,  who  is  he?" 

"His  mother  was  Zarah  Sultana,  the  youngest  sister 
of  the  Sultan.  She  died  some  years  ago.  There  are 
those  that  say  she  favored  her  imprisoned  brother,  the 
ex-Sultan  —  and  therefore  she  died." 

A  bitter  smile  curled  the  lips  of  the  Greek,  but  faded 
away  quickly. 

"Are  you  a  Turk?"  Millicent  asked  suddenly,  with 
misgiving. 

Righo  laughed. 

"No,  I  am  a  Greek,  and  consequently  a  hereditary 
enemy  to  the  Turk,  but  —  "  He  hesitated,  with  the 
instinctive  caution  natural  in  Turkey. 

"But—"  insisted  Millicent. 

"I  like  Orkhan  Effendi." 

An  Englishman  who  sat  opposite  Millicent  at  this 
instant  attracted  her  attention  by  the  question :  — 

"Have  you  any  idea,  Miss  Grey,  who  the  Armenian 
chap  was  that  Orkhan  Effendi  knocked  about?" 

"Not  the  faintest." 

"I  wonder  if  it  was  a  spy.  They  are  everywhere,  you 
know.  I  wish  all  of  them  could  be  kicked  into  the  Mar 
mora.  But  they  have  got  pretty  sharp  teeth.  I  hope  the 
beggar  won't  get  back  at  Orkhan  for  his  ducking." 

Millicent  turned  quickly  to  the  Greek. 

"Do  you  think  the  Armenian  could  hurt  him?  He 
seemed  so  disdainful  of  him." 


A   GIANT  ASLEEP  25 

"He  would  be  just  as  disdainful  of  him  if  he  knew 
he  would  bring  death  upon  him  to-morrow.  It's  a 
great  philosophy,  that  religion  of  the  Turks.  They 
do  not  worry:  they  trust  in  Allah." 

After  dinner  they  went  out  on  the  marble  terrace 
for  coffee.  The  Englishman,  Sir  Mohr  MacGreggor, 
made  his  way  to  Millicent's  side.  He  was  a  round  little 
man,  with  an  ease  of  manner  coming  not  only  from  a 
well-bred  ancestry,  but  also  from  much  knocking 
about  the  world.  He  had  been  attracted  to  her  at 
dinner,  but  had  found  it  difficult  to  compete  with 
the  Greek. 

"I  say,  you  were  lucky,  Miss  Grey,"  he  exclaimed, 
"to  fall  into  an  adventure  so  soon  after  your  arrival 
in  Turkey.  The  most  romantic  adventure  most  people 
encounter  here  is  being  cheated  by  a  wretched  Ar 
menian  in  the  Bouyouk-Tsharsi." 

"Now  that  I  have  begun  so  well,"  Millicent  replied, 
"I  shall  expect  to  keep  right  on.  I  am  sure  there  must 
really  be  enough  of  them,  if  one  only  knows  how  to 
go  about  finding  them." 

Sir  Mohr  smoothed  his  blond  moustache. 

"Quite  so,"  he  admitted  thoughtfully.  "I  suppose 
I  am  a  humdrum  sort  of  person  myself,  but  it  seems 
to  me  you  get  more  pleasure,  on  the  whole,  out  of 
simple  things,  like  tennis  parties  and  picnics.  Adven 
tures  read  well  in  books,  but  in  real  life  they  are  often 
deucedly  uncomfortable." 


26          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"But  are  we  in  life  just  for  humdrum  pleasures?" 
Millicent  exclaimed,  almost  contemptuously.  "I 
should  not  care  to  live,  if  that  were  all  I  had  to  look 
forward  to." 

The  little  round  Englishman  sipped  his  coffee  con 
templatively  for  a  minute.  Then  he  waved  a  pudgy 
hand  toward  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  now  lighted  up  by 
the  rays  of  the  rising  moon. 

"  Not  half  bad  that,  is  it?  It's  a  beautiful  country; 
but  I  suppose  if  you  'd  set  out  to  try  to  bring  together 
as  heterogeneous  and  inharmonious  a  lot  of  people  as 
possible,  you  could  n't  have  got  a  worse  mixture  than 
you  find  here  in  Turkey."  After  a  minute's  musing, 
he  added:  "They've  got  the  only  government  pos 
sible  for  them.  The  Young  Turks  talk  about  a  con 
stitution  - 

Millicent,  her  starry  eyes  looking  out  over  the  dark 
sea,  and  thinking  her  own  thoughts  about  this  coun 
try,  was  giving  no  great  attention  to  the  remarks  of 
the  little  Englishman,  when  they  were  interrupted  by 
the  approach  of  Righo  and  an  elderly  American  lady, 
Mrs.  Finlay.  Sir  Mohr,  with  a  word  of  excuse,  rose  and 
went  to  Mrs.  Newbury  at  the  other  end  of  the  terrace. 

"That  is  rather  an  extraordinary  man,"  Righo  re 
marked,  looking  after  him. 

"Really!  I  hadn't  discovered  it,"  Millicent  re 
plied.  "He  told  me  he  found  more  satisfaction  in  ten 
nis  parties  and  picnics  than  in  adventures." 


A    GIANT   ASLEEP  27 

Righo  laughed,  somewhat  immoderately,  it  struck 
the  American  girl. 

"Well,  he  ought  to  know.  He  has  been  confidential 
agent  for  two  or  three  governments,  and  I  don't  sup 
pose  there  is  a  man  in  Turkey  who  has  had  more  ad 
ventures  than  he,  in  spite  of  his  matter-of-fact  air. 
Indeed,  I  believe  he  comes  out  of  them  alive  by  treat 
ing  them  as  mere  commonplaces." 

"Oh!"  Millicent  exclaimed,  a  good  deal  mortified 
that  she  should  have  so  misjudged  him. 

"When  you  see  him  in  a  place,  you  may  be  pretty 
certain  that  —  as  a  compatriot  of  yours  expressed  it 
-  there  is  something  doing." 

"Then  is  his  being  here  a  sign  that  the  Young 
Turks—?" 

The  Greek  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  appealed  to 
Mrs.  Finlay. 

"You  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  us,  and  as  an  out 
sider  can  perhaps  judge  better  whether  the  country  is 
ready  for  a  change." 

Mrs.  Finlay  was  a  motherly  woman,  who  had  lost 
her  husband  and  all  her  children,  and  was  trying  to 
forget  her  sorrow  in  helping  others. 

"I  am  very  glad,  dear,  that  nothing  unpleasant 
came  to  you  from  your  adventure,"  she  said  to  Milli 
cent,  with  her  kind  smile.  It  was  the  first  direct  con 
versation  she  had  had  with  the  girl.  "I  have  been  in 
Asia  Minor  for  the  last  two  years,  and  adventures  are 


28          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

not  what  I  should  like  to  see  a  young  girl  have  in  this 
country." 

Millicent  was  interested  in  her  at  once. 

"  Were  you  out  there  helping  the  Turkish  women?  " 

"No,  dear.  They  will  have  none  of  us,  and  they  do 
not  need  us.  I  was  trying  to  do  what  little  I  could 
for  the  Armenians.  They  are  a  sad  lot  out  there." 
She  turned  to  the  Greek:  "I  owe  you  a  great  deal, 
Mr.  Righo.  It  is  thanks  to  your  letters  that  the 
people  took  me  to  their  hearts  and  did  not  mistrust 
me." 

"I  have  been  through  that  part  of  the  world  several 
times  on  pleasure  trips." 

Mrs.  Finlay  adjusted  her  eyeglasses  and  looked  up 
at  the  Greek. 

"They  must  have  been  queer  pleasure  trips,"  she 
remarked,  without  smiling. 

He  nodded.    "Very,"  he  said  briefly. 

"They  kill  them,  my  dear  Miss  Grey  —  they  kill 
them  like  mosquitoes,"  said  Mrs.  Finlay  with  awe. 

"They  kill  each  other,  you  mean,"  Righo  corrected. 
"You  were  out  there  when  the  Turks  were  doing  the 
killing.  Occasionally  it  is  the  other  way.  You  see, 
Miss  Grey,  we  Greeks,  and  the  Armenians,  and  a 
dozen  other  races,  are  Turkish  subjects,  but  we  vow 
no  allegiance  to  the  Turk.  In  our  hearts  we  are  sub 
jects  of  other  nationalities  whom  we  cherish  to  the 
detriment  of  the  one  which  is  governing  us.  Turkey 


A    GIANT    ASLEEP  29 

suffers  from  excess  of  nationalities;  and  whenever 
any  of  the  nationalities  becomes  too  strong,  or  too 
obstreperous — "  He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "Some 
day  I  hope  we  shall  learn  to  trust  and  to  love  the 
race  which  governs  us." 

Mrs.  Finlay  again  adjusted  her  glasses,  and  gazed 
at  the  Greek  uncomprehendingly. 

"I  thought,"  she  said,  "that  the  Greeks  hated  the 
Turks." 

"So  they  do,  and  that  is  the  pity  of  it.  Supposing 
America  were  to  begin  to  decline,  and  was  badly 
governed,  do  you  think  that  the  different  races  which 
have  made  up  America  would  be  justified  in  hating 
each  other?  What  we  need  in  Turkey  is  to  love  one 
another,  and  to  be  pulling  together." 

"I  can  see  the  Turk  and  the  Armenian  pulling  to 
gether,"  said  Mrs.  Finlay.  ;'Yes,  I  can  see  them. 
They  will  be  like  the  lion  and  the  lamb,  and  when  the 
lion  is  hungry,  God  pity  the  lamb." 

"Yes,"  said  the  Greek, "  and  I  can  see  the  Bulgarian 
and  the  Greek  pulling  together.  They  will  be  like 
two  wildcats  tied  by  their  tails.  Just  the  same,  pull 
ing  together  is  what  Turkey  needs." 

"And  will  that  day  ever  come?"  asked  Mrs.  Nash, 
the  other  lady  of  the  party,  joining  their  group. 

"I  doubt  it,"  Mrs.  Finlay  answered  emphatically. 

"I  hope  so,"  put  in  Righo,  "since  it  is  our  only  sal 
vation." 


30  IN    THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"I  was  only  a  little  girl  when  my  father  came  here 
from  England,"  Mrs.  Nash  said.  "I  have  grown  up 
in  this  country,  and  the  more  I  understand  the  situa 
tion,  the  more  convinced  I  become  that  the  country 
is  doomed  to  destruction,  because  of  its  internal  dis 
sensions." 

At  that  moment,  from  a  caique  at  a  distance  a  voice 
rose  upon  the  night  air.  It  was  a  voice  young  and 
fresh,  singing  an  old  Turkish  ballad. 

"Ah!  this  is  beautiful,"  Mrs.  Nash  exclaimed. 
Putting  her  arm  through  that  of  Mrs.  Finlay  she 
added:  "Come  and  sit  down  on  a  comfortable  chair. 
It  will  last  for  some  time.  You  will  have  this  to  take 
with  you  to  America  —  never  to  forget.  We  do  have 
some  beautiful  things  in  Turkey." 

The  two  older  women,  arm  in  arm,  went  to  a  settee, 
and  Millicent  and  Righo  were  left  to  themselves  again. 

"Would  you  like  to  sit  down,  too?"  he  asked. 

She  shook  her  head,  her  whole  attention  given  to  the 
song,  which  rose  and  fell  over  the  water.  There  was 
a  time  when  it  was  gay.  Then  the  tones  grew  sadder 
and  sadder,  and  without  any  warning,  it  ceased  al 
together. 

The  Greek  sighed,  and  unconsciously  the  American 
girl  did  the  same. 

"Will  it  begin  again?"  she  asked. 

"I  doubt  it,"  he  answered.  "A  few  houses  below 
some  imperial  ladies  are  visiting.  The  singer  must  be 


A    GIANT   ASLEEP  31 

a  seraigli.  The  Turkish  people  are  artists  in  emotion : 
they  never  repeat.  She  probably  was  sent  out  there 
to  sing  that  one  song  only." 

Faintly  there  came  to  them  the  sound  of  oars,  and 
presently  they  could  make  out  the  dim  shape  of  a 
caique.  It  passed  quite  near  the  terrace,  and  they  saw 
the  white  veils  of  the  occupants. 

Righo  leaned  forward  and  called :  — 

"Teshecur  ed  erim." 

A  laughing,  musical  voice  replied:  — 

"Beshedeil." 

"What  did  you  say?"  Millicent  asked. 

"We  exchanged  courtesies." 

For  a  little  time  they  stood  silent;  then  the  Greek, 
a  propos  of  nothing,  said :  - 

"What  I  admire  about  you  American  women  is  that 
you  seem  capable  of  deeds,  as  I  cannot  imagine  an 
excitable  French  or  Italian  woman." 

"Charlotte  Corday  and  Jeanne  of  Naples  were  cap 
able  of  deeds,"  Millicent  rejoined. 

' '  Ah !  you  know  history ! ' '  Righo  cried .  ' '  That  means 
you  love  great,  real  actions.  Perhaps  you  would  even 
help  them  on,  if  you  could?"  He  was  looking  at  her 
with  singular  intensity. 

"Have  you  any  for  me  to  perform?"  she  asked 
lightly. 

With  this  Greek,  despite  their  differences  of  na 
tionality,  environment,  and  training,  she  already  had 


32  IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

a  feeling  of  friendliness.  They  were  sympathetic,  as 
the  Italians  say,  and  could  understand  each  other 
without  diagrams. 

"Who  knows?"  Righo  replied.  "This  is  a  strange 
land,  Miss  Grey,  and  you  look  as  if  God  meant  you 
for  great  things." 

At  a  loss  just  how  to  take  this,  the  girl  turned  her 
eyes  to  the  distant  coast  of  Turkey. 

"It  looks  like  a  giant,  lying  dead,  with  his  head  upon 
his  arm,"  she  said. 

"It  is  a  giant,  but  he  is  not  dead  —  only  asleep. 
When  he  awakes,  Heaven  help  us  all,  unless  we  are 
prepared  for  the  awakening." 

There  was  a  thrill  in  his  voice  which  stirred  Milli- 
cent. 

"You  are  a  Young  Turk?"  she  asked  impulsively, 
raising  her  eyes  to  his. 

With  his  little  finger  he  knocked  the  ash  from  the 
cigarette,  and  it  floated  down  into  the  water  which 
laved  the  wall  of  the  terrace.  His  next  words  did 
not  give  a  categorical  reply  to  her  question. 

"When  you  see  a  man  here  in  whose  eyes  lies  a 
dream,  do  not  ask  him  if  he  is  a  Young  Turk :  be  certain 
of  it." 

"But  what  can  we  accomplish  with  dreams?" 
Millicent  asked. 

"You  are  mistaken,  Miss  Grey.  What  is  a  dream 
but  an  aspiration  of  the  soul?  Gradually  it  reaches  the 


A    GIANT   ASLEEP  33 

brain;  the  mind  understands  and  resolves;  the  body 
obeys  —  and  you  have  action.  Pity  those  who  have 
no  dreams;  for  their  souls  are  asleep,  and  they  will 
never  accomplish  immortal  deeds." 

"There  have  been  dreamers  who  have  only  dreamed 

—  and  died  still  dreaming,"  the  girl  answered,  falling 
into  his  mood. 

The  Greek  shook  his  head. 

"Again  you  are  mistaken.  A  beautiful  thought 
never  dies,  though  the  man  may.  When  his  soul 
leaves  his  body,  his  dream  floats  in  the  air  till  another 
soul,  traveling  toward  the  earth,  receives  it,  and  the 
dream  is  on  earth  again.  There  are  dreams  and  dreams, 
Miss  Grey;  there  are  those  which  can  be  understood 
and  put  into  execution  by  him  who  dreams  them,  and 
others  which  must  pass  through  men's  minds  for  cen 
turies  —  ever  developing,  ever  waiting  for  the  world 
to  advance  sufficiently  —  before  they  may  become 
deeds.  Orkhan  Effendi's  dream  —  my  dream  —  is  an 
old  one  which  has  been  filling  the  air  of  this  country 
for  years  and  years.  It  is  an  old  dream  which  has  ac 
quired  strength  and  beauty  with  age.  We  feel  its 
force  now  because  our  brain,  analyzing  it,  understands 
it.  From  the  understanding  to  the  realization  is  but 

—  Forgive  me,  Miss  Grey,  why  should  I  bother  you 
with  our  dream?  —  you  who  are  yourself   the  per 
sonification  of  a  beautiful  dream,  —  perhaps  your 
mother's." 


34  IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"I  have  never  known  my  mother,"  the  girl  said. 
"She  died  when  I  \vas  born." 

:' Yes,  there  must  be  dreams  that  kill,  too,"  he  said, 
in  slow  rumination.  His  arms  were  crossed  on  his 
breast,  in  an  attitude  which  in  an  American  would 
have  had  a  touch  of  the  melodramatic.  In  him  it 
seemed  quite  natural.  Millicent  thought  that  he 
might  have  been  an  ancient  Greek,  about  to  deliver 
an  immortal  oration.  "I  lost  mine,  too,  \vhen  I  needed 
her  most."  His  face  hardened  as  he  spoke;  then 
abruptly  he  changed  the  subject.  "May  I  bring  my 
sister  to  see  you,  Miss  Grey?  I  am  fourteen  years 
older  than  she.  When  my  mother  died,  I  promised 
to  be  the  child's  guardian.  It  is  hard  to  be  mother  and 
father  to  a  girl." 

"Is  your  father  dead?"  Millicent  asked  sympa 
thetically. 

"My  father —  my  father-  '  he  repeated.  "He  is 
dead  —  and  his  blood  - 

He  checked  the  passionate  outburst.  Pointing  to 
ward  the  dim  coast  of  Turkey,  he  said  unsteadily :  - 

"It  is  a  giant,  Miss  Grey,  but  he  is  only  sleeping." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  HOOT  OF  THE  OWL 

EFFENDI  sat  at  a  large  table,  in 
tently  examining  what  appeared  to  be  the 
rough  plan  of  an  elaborate  country -place.  He  referred 
frequently  from  it  to  a  sheet  of  paper,  closely  written 
over.  From  time  to  time  he  made  minute  marks  on 
the  plan  with  red,  green,  and  blue  pencils. 

The  silence  of  the  night  was  broken  by  the  melan 
choly  hoot  of  an  owl.  Orkhan  raised  his  head.  The 
note  of  the  bird  of  night  sounded  again,  and  this  time 
the  Turk  slipped  an  automatic  pistol  into  his  pocket, 
turned  out  the  light,  and  stepped  forth  on  the  stone 
balcony  outside  his  room.  It  overhung  the  water,  and 
was  supported  by  huge  stone  brackets.  Noiselessly 
he  lowered  a  light  rope  ladder  over  the  balustrade, 
and  crouched  down,  pistol  in  hand. 

The  moon  was  under  a  big  cloud,  and  the  sea  lay 
black  beneath  him.  Far  across  it  a  few  lights  indi 
cated  the  position  of  Chartal  on  the  Asiatic  coast. 
Off  to  the  right  lay  the  bare  island  of  Antirovinthos. 

Again  the  hoot  of  the  owl  came  over  the  water.  To 
this  third  signal  the  Turk  made  answer  in  the  same 
way. 

The  sound  of  muffled  oars  came  faintly  to  him.   A 


36  IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

rowboat  was  approaching.  It  passed  directly  under 
the  balcony  and  without  stopping  continued  on  its 
way.  The  rope  ladder,  however,  stiffened  and  creaked, 
as  with  some  weight.  A  few  seconds  later  the  face 
of  Righo  showed  dimly  against  the  darkness. 

He  climbed  swiftly  over  the  balustrade,  and  with 
out  a  word  began  hauling  up  the  ladder. 

"Sh!"  he  warned,  when  it  lay  on  the  stone  floor  at 
their  feet. 

The  two  men  stood,  every  nerve  of  hearing  so 
strained  that  the  Greek's  heartbeats  were  plainly 
audible. 

Before  the  first  boat  had  gone  many  rods,  they  could 
make  out  the  faint  sound  of  another,  its  oars  also 
muffled,  following  on  the  track  of  the  first.  It  did  not 
bear  in  quite  so  close  to  the  shore,  and  passed  on  out 
of  hearing. 

Righo  chuckled. 

"They  will  have  a  long  row,  to-night,  for  nothing. 
My  boatmen  are  going  completely  around  the  island, 
and  back  to  the  place  they  started  from." 

The  two  men  stepped  into  the  room.  Orkhan  Ef- 
fendi  closed  the  door  and  pulled  a  heavy  curtain  over 
it,  and  only  then  struck  a  match  and  lighted  the 
lamp. 

"Os-gheldi,"  he  said,  saluting  with  his  fingers  to  his 
lips  and  forehead. 

Nikolas  Paparighopoulos  threw  his  black  overcoat 


THE  HOOT  OF  THE  OWL  37 

on  a  chair,  and  appeared  in  evening  clothes,  as  he  had 
left  the  Newburys'. 

"I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,"  the  Turk  continued, 
his  long  white  fingers  twining  around  those  of  his 
friend,  in  the  characteristic,  affectionate  way  of  the 
Turks  when  they  like  any  one. 

Righo  glanced  down  at  his  own  fingers  after  they 
were  freed,  and  noticed  how  the  blood  had  been  driven 
from  them  by  the  grip  of  the  Turk. 

"I  always  wonder  afresh  at  the  strength  you  have, 
for  you  don't  show  it,"  he  rejoined,  smiling.  "I  pre 
sume  the  Armenian  you  kicked  off  the  pier  is  wonder 
ing,  too." 

"How  did  you  know?  —  Oh,  yes.  You  were  at 
the  Newburys'  dinner,  I  suppose.  But  now  to  busi 
ness." 

:'You  have  news?" 

Orkhan  pointed  to  a  spot  on  the  plan  which  he  had 
been  studying  before  the  hoot  of  the  owl  had  been 
heard. 

''That,  too,  is  ours  already." 

"Already'!  You  are  not  of  an  impatient  disposi 
tion,  Orkhan.  For  a  year  and  a  half  we  have  been 
working  to  gain  this  door  —  and  you  say  'already." 

"It  took  ten  years  to  gain  the  first  one,"  the  Turk 
replied. 

"Because  the  first  Young  Turks  did  not  believe 
in  enlisting  women  in  the  work.  We  do,  and  where 


38  IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

we  fail,  they  often  succeed.  I  suppose  Malkhatoun 
Hanoum  gained  us  this  last  door,  too." 

Orkhan  nodded. 

"Ah!  we  men,"  the  Greek  apostrophized.  "Be 
cause  we  have  a  little  more  strength  in  our  arms  we 
delegate  woman  to  an  inferior  position,  and  deny  her 
a  share  in  the  conduct  of  our  affairs.  But  what  we 
have  torn  from  her  by  brute  strength,  she  is  winning 
back  by  her  intelligence  and  her  self-sacrificing  love." 

Orkhan  was  fingering  his  pencil  impatiently,  and 
the  Greek  stopped  abruptly.  He  laughed,  and  put 
his  arm  affectionately  around  the  Turk's  shoulders. 

"I  know  you  don't  agree  with  me,  Orkhan,  but  you 
know  I  am  right." 

;'You  are  right  in  this,  that  thanks  to  the  women 
-  and  especially  to  Malkhatoun  Hanoum  —  we  have 
made  faster  progress  of  late.  At  the  same  time,  my 
friend  Righo,  it  is  an  ugly  necessity  which  forces  us  to 
push  women  on  to  unholy  ground.  Women  are  meant 
to  open  the  gates  of  Heaven  to  us,  not  to  go  forth  and 
battle  in  Hell  with  us.  However  - 

With  a  gesture  he  dismissed  this  phase  of  the  sub 
ject,  and  drawing  his  plan  before  him,  continued :  - 

'This  inner  door  of  the  imperial  apartment  on  the 
right,  is  guarded  by  Halil  Pasha  and  his  men.  He  is 
one  of  us.  This,  from  the  outer  apartment  to  Halil 
Pasha's,  is  in  charge  of  Takshan  Pasha.  He  is  a 
friend,  and  will  soon  be  an  ally.  And  the  entrance  on 


THE  HOOT  OF  THE  OWL  39 

the  same  line,  leading  into  the  garden,  is  in  the  hands 
of  Hourik  Bey.  He,  too,  is  ours.  We  may  say  that  the 
entire  right  side  is  won.  With  our  last  victory,  we  are 
sure  of  the  three  detachments  on  the  left.  On  both 
sides  the  Padishah  will  find  himself  surrounded  by  our 
men  in  his  own  palace." 

The  listening  Greek  drank  in  the  words  of  the  Turk, 
with  a  gleam  of  ferocity  shining  in  his  eyes. 

"The  army  every  day  is  becoming  more  and  more 
surely  ours.  Not  a  month  passes  but  we  make  pro 
gress  with  the  garrisons  of  the  interior.  It  will  not  be 
long  before  we  can  strike,  unless  there  is  some  unex 
pected  counter-move  on  the  part  of  the  Sultan." 

"It  is  that  I  am  afraid  of,"  Righo  replied  gloomily. 
''Twice  we  have  been  nearly  ready,  only  to  see  our 
plans  fall  like  a  house  of  cards.  If  he  will  only  delay 
a  few  months  more,  he  will  find  the  cruelty  and  death 
which  he  has  so  often  meted  out  to  others  dogging  his 
own  footsteps." 

"If  he  will  only  delay  a  few  months,"  the  Turk  re 
peated,  a  strange  exaltation  in  his  manner,  "there  will 
be  a  revolution  such  as  the  world  has  never  witnessed. 
We  will  show  the  Christian  nations,  which  consider 
themselves  alone  civilized,  how  far  the  followers  of 
the  Prophet  have  surpassed  them.  There  shall  be  no 
plunder,  no  rioting  —  if  Allah  permits,  no  bloodshed." 

As  if  rebuked  by  the  Turk,  the  Greek  was  silent  for 
a  minute.  Then  he  said :  — 


40  IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"Orkhan,  do  you  not  think  we  ought  to  be  doing 
something  to  be  gaining  ground  in  Europe?  Shall  we 
not  need  sympathizers  there  to  help  us  when  the  time 
conies?" 

The  Turk  laughed  scornfully. 

"No!  as  Bismarck  said,  Europe  always  accepts  a 
fait  accompli." 

"You  are  right,  Orkhan." 

"Let  the  revolution  once  be  made  and  she  will 
applaud  us,  while  in  advance  she  would  only  hinder 
anything  which  might  tend  to  make  us  the  great  na 
tion  we  once  were.  When  we  shall  force  Abdul  Hamid 
to  give  us  a  constitution;  when  through  it  we  shall 
attain  to  freedom  of  opinion  and  of  speech ;  when  our 
natural  resources  may  honestly  be  exploited,  and  the 
public  revenues  no  longer  are  emptied  into  the  private 
treasury  of  the  Sultan:  then  Europe,  whether  she 
wishes  it  or  not,  will  have  to  believe  in  us.  Freedom 
and  justice  are  all  that  are  needed  to  make  of  us  as 
powerful  and  great  a  nation  as  the  young  nation  of 
North  America." 

"Odd!  I,  too,  had  America  in  my  mind,"  Righo 
said.  "There  our  movement  should  find  more  support 
than  in  Europe,  because  there  is  no  possible  rivalry 
between  the  two  countries.  Why  not  enlist  the  aid 
of  some  American  women  in  our  work?  To-night  I 
met  one  who  seemed  to  me  most  fitted  to  assist  us. 
She  is  beautiful  as  a  lily,  and  men's  hearts  would 


THE  HOOT  OF  THE  OWL  41 

melt  before  her,  like  snow  in  the  sunshine.  She  is  in 
telligent  as  a  man,  yet  as  tender  and  imaginative  as 
a  woman,  and  she  has  the  American  woman's  self- 
reliance  and  lack  of  fear.  The  gold  of  her  hair  and  the 
gold  of  her  heart  would  form  a  capital  from  which  we 
could  draw  deeply." 

While  the  Greek  was  speaking,  Orkhan  Effendi  had 
grown  rigid  with  attention.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on 
the  plain  but  attractive  face  of  Righo,  as  he  described 
this  latest  proselyte  he  hoped  to  make.  It  was  a  large 
part  of  the  Greek's  work  to  obtain  recruits.  With  his 
quick  and  accurate  judgment  of  character,  he  seldom 
made  a  mistake. 

" Though  I  only  met  her  to-night,"  he  went  on,  "I 
have  seen  her  twice  before,  and  hers  is  not  a  face  one 
forgets.  Her  imagination  is  already  at  work.  It  will 
not  be  hard  to  win  her  to  us." 

With  a  manner  which  had  in  it  something  forced 
in  its  deliberation,  Orkhan  Effendi  rolled  himself  a 
cigarette,  the  first  he  had  smoked. 

"What  is  her  name,  Paparighopoulos?" 

"Miss  Grey." 

Picking  up  a  blue  pencil,  the  Turk  carefully  fol 
lowed  with  it  the  outline  of  a  wire  clip  which  held  some 
papers  together.  He  did  not  speak  until  this  was 
finished.  Then,  with  the  directness  of  his  nation,  in 
affairs  of  the  emotions,  he  asked :  — 

"Righo,  are  you  in  love  with  her?" 


42          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"In  love  with  her?"  the  Greek  repeated.  "I  sup 
pose  so,  in  the  way  every  man  is  with  a  beautiful 
woman.  But  all  that  I  have  had  to  give  to  a  woman 
has  already  been  given.  Now  there  is  silence,  where 
once  there  was  the  music  of  life.  It  is  only  thanks  to 
you,  Orkhan,  that  I  have  found  other  interests  to  make 
life  worth  living." 

Moodily  the  Turk  listened,  and  pondered  the  words 
of  his  friend. 

The  latter,  with  a  brisker  air,  resumed:  — 

"Miss  Grey,  I  think,  has  gifts  of  the  highest  order. 
I  am  sure  she  could  be  of  use  to  us.  If  you  were  to 
see  her  a  few  times,  you  could  gain  her  support.  You 
are  a  man  to  make  women  as  well  as  men  believe  and 
obey." 

Orkhan  Effendi  still  did  not  reply.  He  rose  and 
walked  the  length  of  the  room  several  times.  His 
friend  almost  forgot  the  matter  they  were  discussing, 
as  he  followed  the  lithe  figure  of  the  Turk  with  his 
eyes.  There  shone  in  them  a  great  love,  such  as  is 
given  to  few  men  to  inspire  in  their  fellow  creatures. 

At  length  Orkhan  stopped  in  front  of  the  Greek. 

"Righo,  I  wish  this  woman  —  this  Miss  Grey- 
to  be  kept  out  of  our  work.    Already  there  are  too 
many  women." 

The  Greek  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

:' You  are  the  leader,  Orkhan.  It  is  for  you  to  choose 
your  lieutenants.  I  only  — " 


THE  HOOT  OF  THE  OWL  43 

From  without  came  twice  the  hoot  of  an  owl;  and 
after  an  instant's  pause,  again  twice. 

"It  is  Tzavat,"  said  Orkhan,  "back  from  Salon- 
ica." 

With  the  same  precautions  he  had  previously  em 
ployed,  the  Turk  went  out  on  the  terrace,  while  the 
Greek,  pistol  in  hand,  waited  behind  the  curtains. 

A  man  climbed  over  the  balustrade,  and  then  an 
other,  and  another.  Silently  they  all  went  into  the 
room. 

When  the  curtains  were  drawn,  the  relighted  lamp 
revealed  three  men  as  different  in  type  as  they  were 
in  age. 

Tzavat  Bey  was  a  handsome  young  Turk  of  the 
same  general  appearance  as  Orkhan,  but  one  in  whom 
the  physical  predominated  over  the  spiritual. 

The  second,  Halil  Bey,  a  man  nearing  middle  age, 
was  a  curious  compound  of  the  unscrupulous  politi 
cian  and  the  fanatic.  His  manner  did  not  have  the 
captivating  quality  of  the  two  younger  Turks,  but 
if  he  could  not  win  soldiers  to  a  new  cause,  he  knew 
admirably  how  to  use  them  after  they  were  won. 

On  noticing  the  presence  of  the  Greek,  an  unpleasant 
expression,  for  the  fraction  of  a  second,  shot  from  his 
eyes;  but  when  he  greeted  Righo  he  was  courtesy 
itself. 

The  third  was  a  man  of  sixty,  leonine  in  bearing, 
and  with  the  fearless  glance  of  an  eagle.  He  stood 


44  IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

erect,  young  of  heart  and  great  of  courage.  When  he 
noticed  Righo,  his  face  lighted  with  pleasure. 

"Glad  to  see  you  here,  Niko." 

"  Thank  you,  Hakir  Pasha,"  said  the  Greek. 
"Anything  serious?" 

The  old  man  nodded. 

"I  mean  to  understand  our  programme  definitely 
before  I  become  one  of  the  orchestra." 

Halil  Bey  had  lent  a  watchful  ear  to  these  words. 
Suavely  he  put  in :  — 

"  At  the  present  hour  patriots  ought  to  work  for  the 
common  good,  not  to  discuss." 

The  lionlike  old  man  raised  his  head  and  gave  Halil 
Bey  a  scornful  glance  from  head  to  foot,  and  deliber 
ately  turned  his  back  on  him.  At  that  moment  the 
dissensions  which  were  later  to  disrupt  the  Young 
Turks  Party  were  born. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   CLASH  OP  NATIONALITIES 

THE  five  men  took  their  seats  around  the  table, 
and  Tzavat  made  known  to  them  the  success  of 
his  mission. 

"I  went  to  all  the  garrisons  to  which  I  was  sent,  and 
the  officers  made  it  possible  for  me  to  speak  with  the 
soldiers.  They  are  becoming  ours  —  under  one  condi 
tion,  of  course,  that  the  person  of  the  Sultan  shall  be 
sacred.  I  explained  our  plans  to  them,  and  told  them 
what  the  Constitution  means  - 

"That  is  what  I  should  like  to  know,"  broke  in 
Hakir  Pasha. 

Orkhan  and  Tzavat  turned  to  the  old  Albanian  in 
surprise. 

:'  You ! "  cried  Orkhan,  —  "  but  you  are  the  father  of 
the  Constitution." 

Hakir  Pasha  shook  his  head. 

"No!  I  thought  I  understood  it;  but  of  late  I  have 
wondered  whether  we,  the  conquered  races  of  Turkey, 
do  not  believe  it  to  mean  one  thing,  while  you,  the 
conquerors,  know  it  to  mean  another." 

"Surely,"  said  Orkhan,  "the  Constitution  of  the 
conquerors  and  conquered  is  the  same,  since  there  is 
to  be  but  one  fatherland  for  all." 


46 


Hakir  Pasha  rose  and  struck  the  table  vehe 
mently. 

"  We  are  here,  five  of  the  leaders  of  the  movement. 
I  wish  to  explain  my  position  to-night — so  that  it 
cannot  be  misunderstood." 

Orkhan  touched  his  fingers  to  his  lips.  "Bou-you- 
roum,"  he  said. 

"I  was  one  of  the  seven  men  who,  during  the  reign 
of  Sultan  Aziz,  dared  pronounce  the  word  '  Constitu 
tion.'  Although  it  is  known  as  Midah  Pasha's  Con 
stitution,  seven  of  us  drew  it  up  after  many  delibera 
tions.  I  saw  it  triumphant,  for  a  short  period,  and 
then  ignominiously  killed — as  well  as  the  other  six 
men  who  conceived  it.  I  alone  was  saved  because  I 
took  refuge  among  the  Albanian  Mountains,  which 
are  ever  too  high  for  Turkish  tyranny  to  submerge." 

The  ugly  light  which  once  before  had  come  into  Halil 
Bey's  eyes  was  there  again  —  the  ferocity  of  the  bar 
barous  Turk.  He  knew  it,  while  he  could  not  sup 
press  it,  and  he  kept  his  eye-lids  half  closed  and  his 
glance  fixed  on  the  table. 

"  Forty  -five  years  ago,  seven  of  us  came  together 
speaking  of  rejuvenation  and  constitution.  We  are 
here  again  with  the  same  words  in  our  mouths,  and 
with  more  chance  of  success.  But  what  do  you  mean 
by  Constitution?" 

He  addressed  himself  directly  to  Orkhan. 

"I  mean,"  answered  the  latter  gently,  "a  govern- 


THE  CLASH  OF  NATIONALITIES       47 

ment  which  will  have  one  aim :  to  ameliorate  the  con 
dition  of  all  Turkish  subjects;  to  see  that  there  shall 
be  justice  and  progress,  according  to  the  standard  of 
the  world's  present  civilization." 

"And  this  government  will  be  composed  of  what 
men?"  the  old  Albanian  asked. 

"It  will  be  composed  of  Turkish  subjects." 

Hakir  Pasha  struck  one  palm   against  the  other. 

"And  whom  do  you  call  Turkish  subjects?"  he  de 
manded. 

"All  those  who  call  Turkey  their  fatherland,"  re 
plied  Orkhan. 

"Exactly,"  put  in  Halil  Bey,  "all  those  who  call 
Turkey  their  fatherland." 

"Now  we  have  come  to  the  point,"  exclaimed  the 
Albanian.  "All  those  who  call  Turkey  their  father 
land,'  —  that  is  to  say,  the  conquerors." 

"But  surely,"  protested  Orkhan,  "you  call  Turkey 
your  fatherland." 

"My  fatherland  is  Albania.  She  has  my  first  de 
votion,  and  for  her  sake  I  am  joining  in  this  work  of 
rejuvenation.  Let  us  understand  one  another.  I  and 
my  Albanians  will  help  to  fight  your  battles  because  we 
want  a  better  government  for  Albania;  and  what  we 
understand  by  constitution  is  this:" 

The  old  man  looked  at  those  around  the  table,  but 
it  was  to  Halil  Bey  directly  that  he  spoke. 

"When  our  party  succeeds  in  overthrowing  the 


48  IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

present  tyrannical  and  corrupt  government  and  in 
establishing  the  Constitution,  there  shall  be  freedom 
of  speech,  freedom  of  conscience,  and,  above  all,  as 
much  freedom  of  growth  for  the  alien  races  as  for  the 
Turks.  We  want  a  United  States  of  Turkey.  Each 
state  to  have  its  laws,  its  standing  armies,  and  its 
racial  customs  —  with  one  head,  the  Parliament  of 
Turkey,  composed  of  an  equal  number  of  represent 
atives  from  each.  It  would  naturally  be  to  the  ad 
vantage  of  the  State  of  the  Albanians,  of  the  State  of 
the  Armenians,  and  of  that  of  the  Greeks  to  gather 
under  the  banner  of  Turkey  the  moment  Turkey  was 
threatened  from  outside.  But  in  time  of  peace  we 
want  our  own  national  life  unhindered." 

He  crossed  his  arms  on  his  breast,  and  turned  from 
one  of  the  leaders  to  the  other  deliberately. 

"Am  I  given  such  a  promise?" 

Halil  Bey  rose. 

"  Hakir  Pasha,"  he  said,  "  you  are  known  as  a  great 
man,  but  you  ask  what  a  smaller  man  might.  What  you 
ask  would  be  right  if  each  Albanian  were  as  noble- 
minded  a  man  as  you  are;  if  each  Armenian  were  as 
brave  and  as  loyal  as  you  are;  and  if  the  integrity  of 
every  Greek  equaled  yours ;  but  you  forget  that  when 
we  succeed,  the  work  of  reconstruction  and  reorgani 
zation  will  be  even  more  difficult  than  the  overthrow 
of  the  present  tyranny.  Europe  will  be  glad  to  see  us 
stand  on  our  feet  as  a  nation  only  because  each  great 


THE   CLASH  OF  NATIONALITIES       49 

power  will  be  relieved  of  the  fear  that  some  other  will 
absorb  us.  At  the  same  time  Europe  will  not  be  eager 
to  see  another  Turkey  arise  with  the  strength  it  had 
in  the  fifteenth  century.  Europe  will  do  much  to 
hinder  our  progress  beyond  a  certain  point.  What 
all  patriots  must  do  is  not  to  ask  for  a  guaranty  for 
the  preservation  of  their  own  racial  customs  and  racial 
ideals,  but  to  put  aside  the  lesser  for  the  greater  good. 
For  Turkey  to  be  reconstructed  there  must  be  no 
Albanians,  no  Greeks,  no  Armenians,  but  only  Otto 
mans,  having  but  one  fatherland — Turkey ;  recogniz 
ing  but  one  banner — the  Crescent." 

His  words  were  the  fair  words  of  a  patriot,  but  be 
hind  his  now  inscrutable  countenance  lay  the  designs 
of  the  fanatic  Turk  to  brush  out  all  races  except  his 
own,  all  religions  other  than  that  of  Mahomet. 

Hakir  Pasha  pushed  his  chair  back  from  the  table 
and  stood  in  an  attitude  of  defiance.  He  gave  a  short 
laugh  —  derogatory  and  menacing. 

"Yes,"  he  cried,  "that  is  what  every  Turk  knows 
the  Constitution  to  stand  for.  But  we  of  the  subject 
races  understand  it  to  mean  free  growth  for  us,  as 
well  as  for  you.  It  was  I  who  started  this  movement, 
a  few  years  after  the  death  of  the  first  Constitution. 
I  worked  hard  for  it.  I  traveled  from  mountain  to 
mountain,  from  village  to  village,  from  town  to  town, 
gaining  adherents,  gathering  strength  for  the  cause. 
I  pretended  to  be  repentant,  and  let  myself  be  bribed 


50          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

by  the  Sultan,  in  order  to  come  to  Constantinople  and 
work.  I  gained  the  Greeks;  /  gained  the  Armenians; 
I  obtained  the  support,  the  money  of  both.  And  now 
when  the  one-man  idea  has  become  that  of  a  thousand; 
now  that  the  Turks  have  been  taught  by  me  to  think, 
and  to  wish  for  a  better  government,  those  same  Turks 
ask  me  to  be  a  'patriot'  and  to  let  my  country  be 
swallowed  up  by  them.  By  the  soul  of  the  man  who 
gave  me  life,  you  shall  not  have  me  and  my  Albanians 
under  those  conditions." 

Halil  Bey  rose  again,  as  the  other  sat  down. 

"  Don't  you  see,  Hakir  Pasha,  how  dangerous  it 
would  be  for  Turkey  to  allow  Albania  to  have  an  army 
of  its  own?  Every  time  you  fancy  that  we  are  not  do 
ing  as  you  wish,  you  will  be  declaring  war  against  us, 
and  where  will  our  country  be?" 

"  We  do  not  need  a  standing  army  to  fight  you  every 
time  you  break  faith  with  us,"  the  old  man  replied 
coldly.  "  We  have  always  fought  you  when  we  pleased ; 
what  we  want  an  army  for  is  that  you  should  never 
dare  to  break  faith  with  us.  That's  all." 

Here  Righo  interposed. 

"  Hakir  Pasha,  you  know  that  my  respect  for  you 
is  great,  but  are  you  not  taking  for  granted  that  the 
new  government,  which  will  be  composed  of  enlight 
ened  patriots,  is  going  to  be  less  generous  and  less 
magnanimous  than  all  the  governments  which  have 
preceded  it?  Surely  we  have  been  allowed  to  have  our 


THE   CLASH  OF  NATIONALITIES      51 

national  life  since  1453,  and  why  do  you  suppose  that 
we  shall  now  be  deprived  of  that  which  has  been  ours 
for  generations?" 

"What  guaranty  have  you,  Niko,  that  those  privi 
leges  will  be  respected  by  the  new  government?" 

"The  integrity  of  character  of  the  men  who  com 
pose  the  movement." 

Again  the  derogatory  laugh  of  Hakir  Pasha  rang 
through  the  room. 

"My  dear  boy,  you  are  young,  and  I  am  old.  I  have 
served  the  Turks  in  every  capacity  from  that  of  a 
simple  soldier  to  that  of  a  grand  vizier.  And  I  know 
that  a  Turk  will  break  his  word  politically  where  he 
would  never  think  of  it  in  private  life.  They  call  them 
selves  a  nation  of  lions;  but  they  are  lions  who  have 
been  crossed  with  wolves." 

Orkhan  had  turned  very  pale. 

"  Hakir  Pasha,  my  friend,  what  can  we  gain  by 
insults?  I  believe  what  you  ask  may  be  given  to  you." 

Tzavat  also  nodded  assent,  but  Hakir  was  not 
mollified. 

"Those  are  words  of  the  two  of  you  whom  I  can 
believe;  but  what  I  want  is  that  it  shall  be  written  and 
signed  by  all  the  leaders.  Then  I  shall  read  it  to  the 
Albanians,  and  as  soon  as  there  shall  be  a  constitution, 
we  shall  be  proclaimed  a  state  within  a  state:  our 
taxes  for  ourselves  —  our  government  for  ourselves. 
Do  you  hear  me,  Halil  Bey?  —  Albania  for  the  Al- 


52          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

banians;  but  one  of  the  many  tributaries  which  shall 
add  to  the  greatness  of  Turkey." 

Halil  Bey  did  not  answer.  He  could  not  trust  his 
own  voice. 

Into  the  silence  which  ensued  came  the  faint  song  of 
a  boatman.  All  the  men  listened  to  it  attentively. 
Gradually  it  approached,  and  the  words  became  au 
dible:  - 

"  My  breast  suffers  from  a  wound 
Which  never  can  be  healed." 

"It  is  my  Ali,"  said  Hakir.  "It  is  time  for  us  to 
go.  It  will  take  you  two  weeks,  Orkhan,  to  see  the 
leaders  and  to  bring  me  the  document." 

As  they  were  rising,  Orkhan  caught  the  eye  of 
Halil  Bey,  and  a  misgiving  seized  him.  Would  it  be 
possible  to  obtain  the  signatures  to  such  a  document? 

The  Albanian  put  his  arm  through  that  of  the  Greek. 

"Let  me  give  you  a  lift,  too.  Come  and  spend  the 
night  with  me." 

When  the  others  had  gone,  Orkhan  did  not  reenter 
his  room.  Leaning  against  the  balustrade  of  the  stone 
balcony,  he  remained  brooding  curious  thoughts  amid 
the  vagrant  noises  of  the  night.  For  although  he  was 
considered  a  pure-bred  Turk,  of  the  second  branch  of 
the  imperial  Ottoman  family,  he  had  worn  concealed 
-  ever  since  he  was  a  lad  of  fifteen  —  a  girdle,  begun 
by  one  Albanian  woman,  and  finished  by  another. 
And  the  story  of  that  girdle  shall  now  be  told. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE   PASHA   OF   ALBANIA   DISCOVERS  A   BEAUTY 

IT  was  a  calm  summer  day,  a  good  many  years 
before  Millicent  Grey  came  to  Turkey.  The  Al 
banian  Mountains  lay  tranquil  in  the  warm  haze, 
their  wild  beauty  disturbed  by  the  sound  of  no  bul 
lets.  The  last  insurrection  had  been  put  down.  Omar 
Pasha  had  returned  to  Constantinople  with  his  troops, 
and  once  more  this  turbulent  principality  of  the  Sultan 
was  in  enforced  tranquillity. 

So  quiet  indeed  had  Albania  become  that  two  years 
previously,  when  Russia  was  at  war  with  Turkey,  she 
had  not  even  taken  advantage  of  the  occasion  to  re 
volt.  It  seemed  as  if  her  hatred  for  Turkey  was  asleep. 
One  would  not  be  so  bold  as  to  say  it  was  extinct;  for 
according  to  the  Albanian  saying,  that  could  never 
happen,  "  so  long  as  there  existed  one  Albanian  woman 
to  give  birth  to  a  son." 

On  this  calm  summer  day  a  small  cavalcade  was 
riding  through  the  mountains.  The  Pasha  of  Albania, 
with  his  retinue,  was  on  a  round  of  friendly  visits, 
exchanging  presents  with  the  chiefs,  as  a  mark  of  the 
friendship  and  good-will  existing  between  Turkey  and 
her  troublesome  subjects.  He  believed  in  making 
these  friendly  visits  from  time  to  time,  in  order  to  as- 


54  IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

certain  with  his  own  eyes  that  there  were  no  signs  of 
a  new  insurrection. 

The  riders  held  the  reins  of  their  mounts  loosely, 
and  the  horses  made  their  way  up  the  steep  hills  with 
lowered  heads  and  quick,  deep  breathing.  They  came 
to  a  little  plateau,  and  drew  rein  to  rest  a  minute.  Of 
a  sudden  the  silence  was  broken  by  a  singing  voice, 
young  and  melodious,  fresh  and  exultant.  It  was  like 
some  magic  added  to  the  enchantment  of  the  scenery. 

When  it  came  to  the  chorus,  several  other  voices 
joined  in;  and  the  horses  pricked  forward  their  ears 
and  quivered,  as  if  they  smelled  blood. 

"They  recognize  the  song,"  the  Pasha  said,  smiling. 

The  men  patted  the  necks  of  their  mounts  and  spoke 
to  them  soothingly. 

"Wait  here,"  continued  the  Pasha,  "and  I  will  find 
out  who  the  singers  are." 

Instantly  several  of  his  followers  sprang  from  the 
saddles,  and  the  quickest  of  them  held  the  Pasha's 
stirrup. 

"I  will  go  alone." 

Although  fat,  he  moved  without  clumsiness,  and 
advanced  cautiously  toward  the  singing  voice.  Pre 
sently  he  espied  a  group  of  Albanian  girls  seated  on 
the  banks  of  a  stream,  their  bare  feet  in  the  water,  their 
hands  busy  embroidering  men's  clothing. 

The  Pasha  recognized  at  a  glance  that  they  be 
longed  to  the  aristocracy  of  the  country,  and  judged 


THE  PASHA  DISCOVERS  A  BEAUTY    55 

that  they  were  working  on  warriors'  garments;  for  he 
knew  that  according  to  Albanian  traditions  the  women 
of  the  upper  classes  sew  only  on  the  garments  of  their 
relatives  who  carry  arms. 

As  they  sewed,  the  oldest  of  the  group,  a  girl  of 
about  sixteen,  was  teaching  the  song  to  the  others. 

As  the  Pasha's  glance  rested  on  her  he  became  rigid, 
enthralled,  drinking  in  each  detail  of  her  appearance 
with  the  epicurean  delight  of  a  connoisseur  of  female 
beauty.  For  some  minutes  he  could  not  take  his  eyes 
from  the  perfect  face  with  the  dark  hair  clustering 
about  the  brows  in  wavy  masses,  the  eyebrows  arched 
over  unfathomable  eyes  of  velvety  brown.  His  glance 
flickered  over  the  lips,  the  chin,  the  shell-like  ears,  the 
nape  of  the  neck.  He  gloated  over  her  as  a  miner  might 
gloat,  who,  after  years  of  search,  has  discovered  end 
less  gold.  He  followed  the  lines  of  the  throat  to  the 
bust;  and  then  took  in  the  whole  figure  with  ever- 
increasing  satisfaction. 

"  What  fortune !  Oh !  what  fortune ! "  he  murmured. 
"By  the  beard  of  the  Prophet,  never  have  I  seen  a  head 
more  nobly  carried  —  nor  a  figure  more  worthy  to 
bear  such  a  head." 

The  girl  was  dressed  in  the  rich  Albanian  costume, 
leaving  her  throat,  sister  to  the  lilies,  bare,  while  the 
transparent  white  cambric  of  her  waist  accentuated 
the  roundness  and  freshness  of  her  young  bosom.  As 
she  sang  her  martial  song,  her  head  moved  to  and  fro, 


56  IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

as  does  the  baton  of  a  leader.  When  the  chorus  came, 
the  other  girls  dropped  their  work  on  their  lap,  placed 
their  hands  on  their  hearts,  and  joined  in  with  fervor. 

After  the  song  was  at  an  end,  the  leader  spoke :  - 

"Thus  will  Albanian  heroes  act  again,  some  day  — 
may  Allah  help  them!" 

Cautiously  the  listening  man  retraced  his  steps. 
Then  noisily  he  came  back.  He  saluted  the  young 
girls  in  military  fashion. 

"  I  am  the  Pasha  of  Albania,"  he  explained.  "  With 
my  retinue  I  am  on  my  way  to  Karadji  Aga's  place. 
I  fear  me  we  have  lost  our  way." 

"Karadji  Aga  is  my  father,"  replied  the  eldest 
girl.  "If  you  follow  this  stream  upward,  a  half -hour's 
ride  will  take  you  to  his  tents.  Hospitality  will  there 
be  offered  to  you." 

The  Turk  saluted  and  departed.  He  knew  now  what 
he  had  wished  to  learn. 

"When  he  had  gone  the  girl  spoke  to  her  companions : 

"Some  day  we  shall  be  wives  and  mothers.  Let  us 
not  forget  to  teach  our  sons  that  the  Pasha  of  Albania 
must  be  an  Albanian  and  not  a  Turk  —  and  free  and 
independent  as  the  eagle  of  the  skies." 

The  other  girls  bent  forward  till  their  foreheads 
touched  the  earth. 

"We  shall  not  forget!"  they  cried.  "But,  Trajah, 
tell  us  more  about  Iskander  Bey,  and  of  his  victories 
over  the  Turkish  armies." 


THE  PASHA  DISCOVERS  A  BEAUTY    57 

While  Trajah  was  thrilling  her  younger  sisters  and 
cousins  with  the  glorious  past  of  Albania,  the  Turk  who 
was  now  governing  her  country  rode  on,  lost  in  thought. 
For  years  he  had  wanted  to  send  to  the  Palace  a  girl 
whose  beauty  and  grace  should  charm  and  make 
grateful  the  monarch  —  and  who  might  also  kindly 
remember  the  man  who  had  sent  her  there.  He  had 
spent  enormous  sums  of  money  buying  slaves;  he 
had  watched  every  newborn  girl  among  his  subjects, 
with  ever-renewed  hope  that  the  paragon  he  desired 
might  at  last  have  come  upon  the  earth.  But  so  far 
he  had  not  been  able  to  send  a  gem  sufficiently  bright 
to  attract  the  eye  of  young  Sultan  Medjid  and  make 
him  desire  to  add  her  to  the  imperial  diadem. 

He  had  found  her  now  in  this  proud  young  aristo 
crat.  No  shadow  of  doubt  was  in  his  mind  that  the 
Sultan  could  not  see  her  without  loving  her.  And  to  en 
snare  the  young  Albanian,  singing  her  patriotic  songs, 
and  send  her  to  the  Palace,  had  also  its  humorous  side. 
The  old  Turk  smiled  grimly.  While  his  horse  was  car 
rying  him  steadily  toward  the  great  chief's  dwelling, 
his  fertile  brain  was  scheming  in  what  way  it  would 
be  possible  to  abduct  the  daughter. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE    CRAFT    OF    THE    PASHA 

THE  Pasha  of  Albania  was  seated  on  a  bro 
cade-covered  divan,  his  legs  skillfully  crossed 
under  him.  His  fat  body  was  enveloped  in  a  long, 
costly  wrapper.  By  him  was  a  low  table,  inlaid  with 
mother-of-pearl,  on  which  stood  his  narghile  of  cut- 
glass,  mounted  with  amber.  Although  he  held  the 
markoutzh  in  his  pudgy  hands,  he  was  not  smoking. 
On  his  face  was  the  look  of  a  man  who  is  anxious  over 
the  success  of  some  project  on  which  he  has  set  great 
hopes.  He  leaned  forward  and  pulled  a  velvet  rope 
hanging  at  his  elbow. 

A  manservant  entered,  threw  himself  on  the  floor, 
and  in  abject  servility  waited  the  orders  of  his  master. 

"When  Mechmet  Effendi  comes,  bring  him  in  at 
once,"  said  the  Pasha,  not  even  deigning  to  glance 
at  the  groveling  figure. 

"He  has  just  arrived,  Pasha  Effendi,"  the  slave 
replied  meekly. 

"Then,  son  of  an  unworthy  mother,  bring  him  in!" 

The  slave  crawled  out  of  the  room,  and  a  few  minutes 
later  the  heavy  silk  portiere  of  another  door  was  raised 
by  two  slaves,  and  a  young  officer  entered  the  room. 
He  saluted  his  superior  with  a  certain  familiarity,  and 


59 


the  Pasha,  as  a  mark  of  condescension,  indicated  to 
him  to  take  his  seat  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  divan. 

The  Pasha  put  the  amber  mouthpiece  of  his  nar 
ghile  between  his  lips  and  smoked  on  in  silence. 

"You  were  due  here  last  night,"  he  said  finally. 

"Your  Excellency  cannot  expect  punctuality  where 
women  are  concerned.  She  gave  me  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  —  more  than  I  anticipated  from  such  a  slip 
of  a  girl." 

"When  you  know  more  about  women,  you  will 
learn  that,  whether  they  be  a  slip  of  a  girl  or  a  giant  of 
a  woman,  they  will  give  trouble.  They  are  meant  for 
trouble.  I  have  had  some  experience  with  them." 

The  young  officer,  who  knew  that  the  older  man's 
harem  contained  no  less  than  a  hundred  women,  of 
all  ages  and  sizes,  winked  impudently,  and  the  two 
men  broke  into  laughter. 

The  Pasha  drew  from  his  pocket  a  string  of  amber 
beads  that  would  have  made  any  woman  envious, 
and  began  to  play  with  them. 

"Tell  me  how  you  managed  it,"  he  said. 

"I  studied  her  habits,  your  Excellency.  She  was 
the  leader  of  a  group  of  ten,  who  wandered  about 
the  mountains  like  wild  goats.  They  not  only  sang, 
as  you  told  me,  but  they  carried  daggers,  and  em 
broidered  warriors'  garments.  She  was  making  a 
belt." 

"I  wish  you  could  have  taken  her  with  that  belt." 


60          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"I  did,  your  Excellency." 

Thereupon  the  Pasha  laughed  so  immoderately  that 
the  younger  man  feared  lest  it  would  end  in  a  fit  of 
apoplexy. 

"  Go  on !  Go  on ! "  the  fat  man  gurgled,  with  a  wave 
of  his  hand. 

"At  first  I  thought  I  should  have  made  her  love 
me.  It  would  have  made  matters  easy.  But  one 
might  as  well  expect  an  Albanian  would  sell  his  rifle 
as  for  one  of  their  women  to  love  a  Turk.  So  I  had  to 
turn  to  other  means.  She  was  training  the  other  girls 
to  be  scouts.  Some  of  the  girls  took  the  parts  of  Turks, 
and  others  were  the  Albanians  who  had  to  discover 
them.  She  sat  on  some  high  elevation  and  conducted 
the  manoeuvres.  She  would  send  the  others  to  far 
distances,  while  she  sat  and  embroidered  her  belt. 
I  posted  my  men  to  interfere  with  the  other  girls, 
and  I  tackled  her  alone  and  privately,  as  you  wished. 
She  can't  weigh  much  over  a  hundred  pounds,  but, 
by  the  beard  of  my  grandfather,  your  Excellency,  she 
made  herself  as  heavy  as  lead.  I  had  to  tie  her  hands 
and  feet;  then  I  threw  her  on  my  horse  and  galloped 
away.  Before  dawn  this  morning  I  brought  her  to 
Fatima's." 

He  omitted  to  say  that  the  girl  had  fought  him  like 
a  tigress,  and  that  he  had  brutally  struck  her  again 
and  again  before  overpowering  her,  although  he  had 
taken  great  pains  not  to  disfigure  her  face. 


THE   CRAFT  OF  THE   PASHA  61 

"You  did  not  tie  her  hands  and  feet  too  tight,  so 
as  to  leave  a  mark?  "the  Pasha  inquired  anxiously. 

"They  will  pass  in  a  day  or  two,  your  Excellency. 
I  had  to  tie  her." 

For  the  first  time  a  pang  of  fear  crossed  the  mind 
of  the  young  man,  at  the  thought  of  the  marks  on  the 
girl's  body,  which  might  betray  his  battle  with  her. 

"  Don't  see  her  for  a  day  or  two,  your  Excellency," 
he  urged.  "  Wait  till  she  is  calmer.  Now  the  tears  will 
be  staining  her  beauty." 

The  Pasha  of  Albania  shot  a  keen  glance  at  the 
young  man. 

"You  do  not  know  Albanian  women.  They  cry  — 
never !  There  is  a  story  of  a  little  girl  who  fell  from 
her  horse,  struck  her  head  on  a  rock,  and  became  un 
conscious.  When  she  came  to  herself  the  pain  was  so 
terrible  that  she  cried.  At  sight  of  her  tears  rage  seized 
her  father,  and  he  hanged  her  on  the  next  tree.  This 
is  the  first  tale  they  tell  to  every  Albanian  girl.  Al 
banian  women  don't  cry,  Mechmet  Effendi." 

He  waved  his  hand  in  dismissal.    The  officer  rose. 

"Come  to-morrow  for  your  reward." 

Alone,  the  Pasha  pulled  the  velvet  rope,  and  to  his 
slave  said :  — 

"I  must  see  General  Shelaledin  at  once." 

While  waiting  he  smoked  furiously. 

On  the  entrance  of  the  General  he  assumed  an  agi 
tated  air. 


62          IN   THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"Bad  news!*'  he  cried.  "I  have  received  intelli 
gence  this  morning  that  the  Albanians  are  making 
ready  for  an  uprising.  Be  prepared  to  mobilize  three 
battalions.  The  leaders  are  the  Karadji  brothers. 
The  proofs  are  with  me.  They  must  be  seized  at  once. 
Thus  possibly  we  may  head  off  this  movement,  and 
nip  a  dangerous  revolt  in  the  bud.  But  —  they  must 
not  be  taken  openly,  lest  we  apply  the  match  to  the 
mine.  They  must  be  tricked,  or  captured  secretly." 

Shelaledin  Bey  saluted  and  withdrew. 

The  Pasha  gazed  upon  his  retreating  back  and 
chuckled  noiselessly. 

"They  don't  cry,  these  Albanian  women,  but  they 
love  like  faithful  dogs.  Once  her  father  is  in  my  power, 
she  shall  go  to  the  Palace  willingly." 

At  nightfall,  quietly  and  without  an  escort,  the 
Pasha  proceeded  to  Fatima's.  His  dark  deeds  were 
done  secretly,  and  the  common  people  of  Albania,  al 
though  they  hated  him  as  a  Turk,  considered  him  a 
just  governor. 

He  raised  the  knocker,  and  let  it  drop.  The  sound 
was  different  from  the  ordinary  knock,  and  the  door 
was  shortly  opened  by  the  mistress  of  the  house 
herself. 

"Os-gheldi,  your  Excellency,  os-gheldi.  May  Al 
lah's  blessing  be  your  life's  portion." 

The  Pasha  entered,  and  the  door  was  closed  behind 
him. 


63 


"How  is  she?"  he  asked. 

"She  has  not  eaten,  your  Excellency,  but  she  has 
let  us  bathe  her  and  attend  to  her  bruises." 

At  the  word  "bruises"  an  ugly  look  passed  over  the 
man's  face. 

"Take  me  to  her,"  he  ordered. 

Fatima  preceded  him,  carrying  a  small  glass  lamp, 
which  shed  an  uncertain  light  on  the  narrow  stair 
case.  At  the  top  they  came  to  a  large  room.  Its  many 
windows  were  not  barred,  but  they  looked  on  a  gar 
den  whose  high  walls  bristled  with  broken  glass. 
Here  Trajah  lay  on  a  divan,  clothed  in  a  white  cambric 
garment.  In  the  dimly  lit  room  there  were  several 
women  and  two  eunuchs.  Mechmet  Effendi  had  been 
eloquent  about  the  strength  and  determination  of 
the  girl. 

The  Pasha  approached,  and  ordered  Fatima  to 
hold  the  light  over  Trajah. 

"It  is  a  faint  light  by  which  to  behold  so  much 
beauty,"  he  said  suavely.  "Bring  in  candles  —  a 
hundred  of  them ! "  he  cried  in  Oriental  extravagance. 

The  soft  light  of  many  candles  soon  filled  the  room. 
The  Pasha  commanded  the  eunuchs  to  stand  with 
their  faces  to  the  wall,  then  bade  the  women  open 
the  garment  of  the  girl.  A  spasm  passed  over  Tra- 
jah's  body;  otherwise  she  lay  apathetic,  her  eyes  shut, 
her  lips  tightly  closed.  She  knew  she  was  powerless. 

Oblivious  of  her  beauty,  the  Pasha  only  looked  for 


64  IN   THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

marks  of  rough  handling  on  her  fair  skin.  His  face 
grew  black  with  passion  at  their  number. 

"Count  the  bruises,"  he  roughly  commanded  one 
of  the  women. 

"Upward  of  thirty,  your  Excellency,"  she  reported. 

"And  this  multiplied  by  ten,  how  much  does  it 
make?"  he  asked. 

"  Three  hundred,  Pasha  Effendi."    • 

He  turned  to  Fatima. 

"Bring  your  most  precious  cloak  and  put  it  on  her. 
So  long  as  she  remains  here,  she  is  the  mistress  of 
this  house." 

When  the  girl  was  clothed  in  the  sumptuous  cloak, 
the  Pasha  bade  all  the  others  be  gone.  He  paced  the 
room  for  a  while  with  knitted  brows.  Finally,  he  came 
and  stood  beside  the  girl,  and  knowing  that  the  Karadji 
family  traced  its  lineage  far  back  to  the  time  when 
Albania  had  princes  and  princesses  of  that  name,  he 
said :  — 

"Princess  Trajah,  the  man  who  struck  you  will 
receive  each  stroke  back  ten  times  over,  and  to-morrow 
he  shall  be  hanged  on  a  tree  which  you  can  see  from 
your  window." 

The  girl  opened  her  eyes. 

"What  will  you  do  to  the  man  who  sent  him  to 
steal  me  from  my  people?  "  she  asked  steadily. 

The  shrewd  old  diplomat  did  not  reply  at  once.  As 
if  moved  by  deep  feeling,  he  averted  his  eyes. 


THE   CRAFT  OF  THE  PASHA  65 

"Before  I  have  finished  speaking  with  you,  you 
may  better  understand  the  motives  of  the  man  who 
caused  you  to  be  stolen  from  your  people.  Princess 
Trajah,"  he  said  slowly,  "you  are  destined  by  Allah 
to  save  Albania." 

The  girl  raised  herself  up  on  her  elbow  and  stared 
at  him.  Unwittingly  he  had  fallen  upon  a  belief  in 
which  Trajah  had  herself  been  raised.  Before  her 
birth  her  mother  dreamed  that  Allah  had  placed  on 
her  lap  a  little  girl.  A  wondrous  dream  it  was,  and 
rendered  the  more  noteworthy  by  the  fact  that  the 
child  was  born  without  causing  her  the  slightest 
physical  pain.  In  Albania  such  a  dream  could  not  be 
forgotten,  as  it  might  have  been  in  other  parts  of  the 
world;  and  as  Trajah  grew  up,  her  unusual  beauty 
and  intelligence  seemed  to  prove  her  destined  for 
some  great  end. 

With  astonishment  the  Pasha  noted  the  impression 
his  words  produced.  Raising  his  hand  impressively, 
he  continued:  — 

"I  am  going  to  tell  you  what  no  one  knows  —  ex 
cept  Allah,  and  my  mother  in  her  grave.  I  am  of 
Albanian  blood,  even  as  you  are." 

Doubting,  the  girl  searched  his  countenance;  but 
the  Pasha  of  Albania  could  appear  very  earnest  and 
benevolent  when  he  so  wished. 

"Were  it  known  that  I  was  of  Albanian  blood,  I 
should  be  looked  upon  with  distrust  by  the  Ottoman 


66  IN    THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

authorities.  My  whole  aim  in  life  has  been  to  help 
my  country.  I  kept  my  secret,  and  here  I  am,  the 
Governor  of  Albania." 

He  saw  that  Trajah  began  to  believe  him. 

"I  have  learned  through  many  years'  striving  how 
hopeless  our  task  is,  unless  the  Sultan  of  Turkey  can 
love  Albania  as  we  do." 

The  Pasha's  words  were  sinking  deep  into  the  heart 
of  his  hearer.  Vehemently  —  passionately  —  he 
continued :  — 

"The  only  way  for  the  Sultan  of  Turkey  to  care 
for  Albania  as  we  do  is  to  give  him  our  blood,  —  and 
that  Allah  meant  you  to  do." 

His  earnest  gaze  held  hers  for  a  moment;  then  her 
eyes  dropped. 

"Were  the  Sultan  of  Turkey  an  old  and  decrepit 
man  we  might  have  hesitated  to  make  him  the 
father  of  our  sultan;  but  the  Padishah  is  a  young  and 
handsome  man,  with  virtues  of  which  any  woman 
could  be  proud.  Let  me  see,"  he  mused.  "He  came 
to  the  throne  in  1839,  at  the  age  of  sixteen.  It  is  now 
1855,  so  he  is  — "  He  stopped  to  calculate. 

"Thirty-two,"  said  the  girl  quickly. 

"Mashallah!"  he  cried.  "You  a  mere  woman  and 
can  count  faster  than  a  man !  Mashallah !  When  my 
eyes  first  fell  on  you,  I  knew  that  you  were  the  woman 
destined  to  save  Albania.  Then  I  learned  that  you 
were  a  promised  wife,  and  that  you  loved  your  lover. 


I  SALUTE  MY  SULTANA 


THE   CRAFT  OF  THE  PASHA  67 

It  seemed  as  if  Allah  were  against  our  sacred  country, 
until  —  as  I  remembered  the  look  in  your  eyes  —  the 
hope  arose  in  me  that  you  might  be  a  woman  who 
would  place  Albania  even  above  your  lover.  I  could 
not  come  to  you  and  your  father  openly;  neither  could 
I  send  you  openly  to  the  Palace.  They  do  not  trust 
us  Albanians.  So  I  had  to  resort  to  strategy  —  to 
abduct  you  —  to  bring  you  here  where  I  could  talk 
with  you,  hoping  that  you  might  understand  — " 

"  I  do  understand,"  said  Trajah. 

"And  do  you  love  Albania  more  than  your  liberty, 
more  than  your  family,  more  than  your  lover?  Are 
you  ready  to  sacrifice  yourself  for  your  country?" 

The  girl  clasped  both  her  hands  over  her  heart. 

"I  do  love  Albania  —  more  than  my  liberty,  more 
than  my  family,  more  than  my  lover!  I  love  her 
next  to  Allah,  and  I  am  ready  to  live  or  to  die  for 
Albania." 

To  hide  his  triumph,  the  Pasha  fell  on  his  knees, 
and,  taking  the  girl's  hand  reverently,  brought  it  to 
his  lips. 

"I  salute  my  Sultana,"  he  murmured.  "I  salute 
the  mother  of  Albania's  savior." 

He  rose. 

"Now  we  must  satisfy  your  father,  without  telling 
him  the  exact  truth;  for  no  one  must  know  our  secret." 
The  Pasha  knew  full  well  that  Karadji  Aga  would  see 
through  his  ruse.  "Could  you  let  him  think  that  you 


68  IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

loved  another  man  better,  and  that  you  had  run 
away  with  him?" 

"No,"  answered  the  girl.  "I  always  stood  for  Al 
bania  to  my  younger  sisters  and  cousins.  I  could  not 
destroy  their  faith  in  me.  It  would  hurt  Albania.  But 
I  can  let  my  father  and  mother  know  that  I  am  called 
upon  to  fill  the  destiny  for  which  Allah  marked  me. 
They  will  understand  and  trust  me."  And  the  girl 
told  him  of  the  belief  concerning  her  which  was  in  her 
family. 

"Then  beg  them  to  lay  their  arms  down,  and  to 
wait  for  your  work,"  he  urged. 

"I  will,"  said  the  girl.  "But  my  father  must  not 
see  my  bruises." 

"No,"  the  Pasha  fervently  assented.  "But  will  he 
take  your  word  without  seeing  you?" 

"He  will,"  the  girl  said  proudly.  "I  should  like  to 
have  my  nurse  go  with  me,  though." 

"You  shall  have  her.  Only  remember,  no  one  in  the 
Palace  must  guess  who  you  are;  and  you  must  win 
the  heart  of  our  Padishah,  and  become  his  Sultana." 

The  girl  knew  the  power  she  had  over  men.  She 
nodded. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MECHMET'S  REWARD 

OUT  in  the  street,  alone,  the  Pasha  of  Albania 
looked  up  at  the  twinkling  stars  and  laughed 
aloud.  He  murmured  an  Oriental  proverb:  *  'The 
clever  bird  is  caught  by  the  beak.'  Well,  well,  that 
was  an  inspiration.  I  shan't  have  to  torture  her 
father."  This  was  no  especial  pleasure  to  him.  He  had 
rather  made  up  his  mind  to  the  torture.  As  the  an 
cient  Romans  did,  he  liked  his  banquet  to  end  with 
blood. 

In  his  own  apartment  he  pulled  the  velvet  rope, 
and  to  Ali  threw  this  order:  — 

"Send  five  men  to  bring  Mechmet  here." 

An  hour  later  Mechmet  was  brought  into  his  pre 
sence.  With  a  wave  of  his  hand,  he  sent  the  escort  out 
of  the  room. 

The  young  man  no  longer  wore  the  debonair  and 
confident  look  of  the  morning.  The  five  men  sent  to 
bring  him  to  the  Pasha  at  this  late  hour  did  not  pre 
sage  good,  and  when  the  latter  said,  with  a  benevolent 
air,  "I  have  seen  the  young  lady,  and  I  thought  it  a 
pity  to  wait  till  to-morrow  to  give  you  your  reward," 
Mechmet's  heart  contracted.  He  had  seen  that  play 
ful  mood  before.  He  hastened  to  say :  — 


70          IN    THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"I  have  just  heard  of  a  girl  whose  beauty  is  even 
greater  than  that  of  the  one  I  brought  you  this  morn- 
ing." 

"What  use  are  they  to  me  if  they  are  brought  to 
my  hand  bruised  like  packed  raisins?  I  have  no  taste 
for  dried  fruit." 

Mechmet  opened  his  mouth  to  utter  another  false 
hood. 

The  Pasha  waved  his  pudgy  hand  for  silence. 

"Her  bruises  are  upward  of  thirty.  You  shall  re 
ceive  them  back  with  tenfold  interest.  No  one  shall 
say  that  the  Pasha  of  Albania  is  not  generous.  I  might 
have  requited  them  a  hundred  fold,  but  I  have  pro 
mised  that  from  her  window  she  shall  see  you  swing 
from  the  branch  of  a  tree.  There  would  not  be  much 
satisfaction  in  seeing  the  hanging  of  a  corpse,  would 
there?" 

In  the  eyes  of  Mechmet  a  glitter  of  hatred  could  be 
seen.  His  fierce  spirit  had  not  been  ignorant  of  the  fate 
that  might  come  to  an  accomplice  of  the  Pasha's,  and 
often  he  had  told  himself  that  if  he  were  to  die,  he 
should  not  die  alone.  Of  late  he  had  forgotten  his 
earlier  forebodings.  He  had  seemed  so  thoroughly  in 
his  master's  confidence.  Perhaps  he  had  presumed  a 
trifle  on  this.  Yet  even  now  he  was  prepared  —  only 
he  was  not  prepared  for  the  prescience  of  the  Pasha. 

The  latter's  right  hand,  which  had  been  in  his 
pocket,  came  forth,  armed  with  an  English  revolver, 


MECHMET'S  REWARD  71 

and,  without  taking  his  eyes  from  Mechmet,  his  left 
sought  the  velvet  rope  and  pulled  it  twice.  Instantly 
several  velvet  portieres  were  lifted,  and  the  room  filled 
with  attendants. 

The  Pasha  slipped  the  revolver  back  into  his  pocket. 
With  the  forefinger  of  his  right  hand  he  pointed  to 
the  doomed  Mechmet,  and  with  the  thumb  of  his 
left,  downward.  He  had  given  that  signal  of  ten  enough 
for  the  men  to  know  what  it  meant. 

Mechmet 's  furious  resistance  was  overpowered. 
His  hands  and  feet  were  tied,  and  he  was  carried  to 
the  underground  chamber.  The  Pasha  followed  at 
his  leisure.  It  was  a  large  room  with  brick  walls,  now 
lighted  up  by  torches.  There  was  little  in  it.  A  table 
stood  in  the  middle,  and  upon  it  Mechmet  was  thrown. 

On  a  high  chair  by  the  wall  the  Pasha  took  his  seat, 
a  smile  of  pleasant  anticipation  on  his  fat  features. 

"How  many  of  you  are  here?"  he  asked. 

"Twelve." 

"He  is  to  receive  three  hundred  strokes.  Appor 
tion  them  between  you.  If  any  of  you,"  he  threw  in 
genially,  "is  not  feeling  strong,  his  place  can  be  taken 
by  others." 

The  men  laughed  at  the  pleasantry  of  their  master. 

The  Pasha  drew  his  amber  beads  from  his  pocket, 
and  played  with  them.  His  small  green  eyes  were 
glistening  with  delight,  such  as  is  known  only  to  the 
Asiatics  when  they  assist  at  human  torture.  Thus 


72          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

Ali  Pasha  of  Yanina  is  known  never  to  have  laughed 
except  when  he  was  assisting  at  the  refined  torture 
he  inflicted  on  the  Greek  chiefs  who  resisted  him. 
History  tells  us  that  when  after  many  years  of  guer 
rilla  warfare  he  managed  to  capture  Katch  Antoni, 
he  sang  a  song  as  he  had  him  impaled  on  a  stake,  al 
though  his  victim  was  sick  with  smallpox,  which 
alone  had  enabled  him  to  effect  his  capture.  In  such 
enjoyment  the  Pasha  of  Albania  sat  on  his  high  chair, 
and  toyed  with  his  beads,  while  Mechmet  was  beaten. 

Before  many  men  had  relieved  each  other  in  the 
administering  of  the  lash,  the  door  of  the  chamber 
was  opened,  and  his  faithful  orderly  entered  with  a 
letter. 

"It  is  important,  Pasha  Effendi,  the  woman  says, 
and  that  you  must  receive  it  at  once." 

The  Pasha  took  the  note  and  turned  it  over  curiously, 
ordering  operations  to  stop.  He  was  not  going  to  miss 
any  of  its  delights.  He  broke  the  wax  seal,  and  opened 
the  letter.  He  gazed  at  it  for  some  seconds,  then 
asked :  — 

"Who  can  read?" 

No  one  replied. 

"Vermin ! "  he  apostrophized  them.  To  his  orderly : 
"Go  fetch  Yusuf." 

Yusuf  came. 

"Read!"  his  master  commanded. 

The  letter  ran  thus:  — 


MECHMET'S  REWARD  73 

I  ask  of  you  the  favor  not  to  hang  the  youth.  I 
do  not  wish  our  mission  to  start  with  a  death. 

TRAJAH. 

The  Pasha  snorted.  "  Oh,  women ! "  and  the  tone  iu 
which  he  uttered  the  words  expressed  the  scorn  he  felt 
for  the  sex.  "At  least  she  does  not  ask  that  he  should 
not  be  flogged." 

He  tore  the  letter  to  bits. 

"  Go  on,  boys,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  IX 

CAJOLING   THE  ALBANIAN   CHIEFS 

SHELALEDIN  BEY  had  executed  his  mission 
with  dispatch.  He  had  arrested  the  unsuspecting 
chiefs  in  their  beds.  When  he  came  to  the  Pasha  to 
announce  that  his  mission  had  been  fulfilled,  the  latter 
scratched  his  chin  in  perplexity. 

"Shelaledin  Bey,"  he  said  gravely,  "we  have  made 
a  mistake.  We  have  been  misinformed.  But  I  think 
I  can  explain  the  matter  to  the  chiefs,  and  send  them 
back  contented  to  their  mountains." 

An  angry  wave  of  color  spread  over  the  face  of 
Shelaledin  Bey.  He  was  a  Turkish  soldier  and  hated 
the  Albanians.  But  he  was  loath  to  have  arrested  the 
chiefs  for  nothing. 

The  Pasha  noticed  the  look.  Benignly  he  went 
on:  — 

"You  have  executed  your  mission  well,  however, 
and  to  the  faithful  I  always  give  a  reward.  Go  to 
the  next  room  and  wait.  A  group  of  girls  will  be  sent 
there.  Choose  the  prettiest  among  them.  She  shall 
be  yours." 

Shelaledin  Bey's  face  slightly  relaxed.  A  gleam  of 
pleasure  came  into  his  eyes.  He  saluted  and  turned 
to  go. 


CAJOLING  THE  ALBANIAN  CHIEFS    75 

The  Pasha  let  him  go  as  far  as  the  door;  then  called 
him  back. 

"You  may  find  two  that  take  your  fancy, and  that 
it  is  hard  to  choose  between  them."  He  smiled 
affably.  "Well,  you  may  have  them  both.  And  as  no 
one  knows  better  than  I  what  cost  women  are  —  Wait !" 

He  rose,  left  the  room,  and  came  back  with  a  green- 
and-yellow  purse  of  knitted  silk  in  his  pudgy  hand. 
He  held  it  out  to  Shelaledin  Bey. 

"It  will  help  to  keep  them." 

The  purse  was  not  large,  but  the  General  knew 
from  the  weight  that  it  contained  gold.  His  face  en 
tirely  relaxed.  After  all,  what  a  Turkish  soldier  loves 
best,  next  to  exterminating  the  enemies  of  the 
Prophet,  is  a  pretty  woman  and  a  full  purse. 

He  smiled  at  his  superior,  and  the  latter  rubbed  his 
hands  in  satisfaction  as  his  contented  soldier  left 
the  room. 

To  the  kalfa  who  came  in  answer  to  his  summons 
he  said:  — 

"Kalfa  Hanoum,  I  have  decided  to  make  a  present 
of  two  wives  to  Shelaledin  Bey.  Let  him  see  ten  girls 
to  select  from." 

"Of  what  age,  your  Excellency?"  asked  the  accom 
plished  woman  who  was  the  chief  trainer  of  his  slaves. 

"Let  them  be  of  the  batch  that  you  bought  five 
years  ago.  I  want  them  to  be  well-mannered  and 
gracious.  Five  years  of  your  training  must  have  done 


76          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

that.  I  do  not  wish  people  to  say  that  the  women  of 
my  kionak  are  not  proper  ladies.  What  age  will  they 
be?" 

"Fourteen  and  fifteen,  your  Excellency." 

"Many  good-looking  ones  among  them?" 

The  kalfa's  pride  was  piqued.  She  was  also  the 
Pasha's  chief  buyer. 

"I  paid  thirty  pounds  a  head,  your  Excellency," 
she  answered  with  some  asperity. 

"Well,  well,  I  did  not  mean  what  I  said;  but  let 
me  see  them  first." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  room  was  gay  as  a  garden  of 
flowers,  so  pretty  were  the  girls,  so  brightly  colored 
their  costumes.  They  salaamed  gracefully  to  the 
man  who  could  dispose  of  them  at  will.  They  were 
bright-eyed  and  happy-looking,  and  their  faces  were 
lit  with  smiles. 

He  beamed  upon  them. 

"My  children,"  he  said  benevolently,  "to  two  of 
you  will  fall  a  happy  lot  to-day.  The  brave  soldier 
Shelaledin  Bey  will  make  you  his  wives.  I  have  been 
a  good  father  to  you  all." 

"So  you  have,  your  Excellency,"  the  girls  answered 
in  chorus. 

"Now,  go  and  face  your  kismet,  little  ones." 

The  girls  salaamed,  and  with  giggles  trooped  out 
of  the  room  and  into  the  next.  After  all,  this  was  what 
they  had  been  brought  up  to.  They  knew  nothing 


CAJOLING  THE  ALBANIAN  CHIEFS    77 

better.  Each  clung  to  her  chum's  arm,  inwardly  hop 
ing  that  she  herself  would  be  the  chosen  one,  and 
after  her,  her  friend. 

Shelaledin,  after  his  choice  had  alighted  on  the 
prettiest  of  them,  diplomatically  indicated  the  two 
clinging  figures. 

"My  home  will  be  honored  if  you  both  come  to 
dwell  under  its  roof." 

From  the  rewarding  of  his  general,  the  Pasha's  at 
tention  was  turned  to  the  pacification  of  the  enraged 
Albanian  chieftains.  A  hard  task,  indeed;  but  the 
Pasha  of  Albania  had  so  many  to  perform  of  that  type 
that  he  was  no  novice. 

With  great  ceremony  he  had  the  chiefs  brought  to 
him.  When  they  reached  the  threshold  of  his  room 
he  rose  to  receive  them.  He  saluted  them  as  equals, 
and  greeted  them  as  friends.  In  his  most  affable  man 
ner  he  explained  how  certain  false  reports  had  led 
him  to  detain  them.  Now,  he  was  convinced  that  his 
Imperial  Master  had  no  more  faithful  subjects  than 
the  brothers  Karadji. 

He  was  lying,  his  four  hearers  knew  it,  and  he  knew 
that  they  knew  it;  yet  the  Albanians  salaamed  and 
declared :  — 

"Indeed,  we  are  the  Padishah's  most  devoted  sub 
jects  —  as  are  all  the  Albanians." 

It  was  an  even  more  stupendous  lie  than  his,  and 


78          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

the  Pasha  could  not  let  them  outdo  him  without  a 
struggle. 

"Not  only  are  the  Albanians,  as  you  say,  the  most 
devoted  subjects  of  the  Shadow  of  Allah  on  Earth, 
but  I  have  myself  heard  the  Lord  of  All  True  Believers 
say  that  he  loved  the  Albanians  above  all  his  other 
subjects." 

Not  one  of  the  Karadji  brothers  spoke.  They 
could  not  hope  to  cap  this  climax.  They  salaamed 
again,  and  the  Pasha  salaamed. 

Then  Trajah's  father  asked:  — 

"What  retribution  is  to  be  made  to  us  for  this  ar 
rest?" 

The  Pasha  was  prepared  to  be  generous. 

"The  Karadji  brothers  shall  be  exempt  from  sheep 
toll  this  year." 

"Then  there  will  be  more  sheep  to  eat  down  the 
grass,"  observed  the  youngest  brother. 

The  Pasha  waved  a  lordly  hand. 

"Let  this  year  be  free  also  from  the  grass  tax." 

The  Karadji  brothers  salaamed,  and  the  Pasha  sa 
laamed  in  his  turn,  and  they  united  in  declaring  that 
there  was  but  one  God  and  Mahomet  was  his  prophet. 

After  this  utterance  the  Pasha  pulled  his  velvet 
rope  thrice,  and  to  this  signal  five  attendants  re 
sponded,  ceremoniously  bringing  pipes  on  brass  trays. 
The  tchibouk-tchis,  or  pipe-men,  were  the  most  showy 
servants  of  rich  Turkish  households.  Their  sole  occu- 


CAJOLING   THE   ALBANIAN   CHIEFS    79 

pation  was  the  cleaning  and  polishing  of  pipes,  and 
inventing  ceremonious  ways  of  presenting  them  to 
the  master  and  his  guests.  The  tchibouk-tchis  of  the 
Pasha  of  Albania  had  been  chosen  with  great  care  for 
their  appearance  as  well  as  for  their  dexterity.  They 
made  a  startling  picture  as  they  slowly  advanced  in 
perfect  step.  Their  trousers  were  a  vivid  green,  their 
bright  red  jackets  embroidered  in  silver.  Their  ex 
tended  right  hands  supported  the  brass  trays  on  which 
were  the  pipes;  their  left  hands  were  kept  behind  their 
backs.  All  five  came  to  a  stop  at  the  same  instant  be 
fore  the  respective  guests.  Their  left  hands  simul 
taneously  struck  matches,  and  five  flames  were  pre 
sented  to  the  five  smokers.  Then,  walking  backward, 
always  in  step,  they  retreated  to  the  wall,  and  waited 
to  present  the  second  pipe. 

The  Albanian  chiefs  and  the  Pasha  smoked  in  si 
lence.  Each  minute  the  latter  expected  Trajah's 
father  to  refer  to  his  daughter's  disappearance  and 
to  solicit  his  host's  help  in  recovering  her.  The  Pasha 
was  rehearsing  in  his  mind  the  expression  of  horror 
his  face  would  assume,  the  words  he  would  utter,  and 
the  furious  way  in  which  he  would  pull  the  velvet  rope 
and  summon  his  general.  He  had  prepared  the  atti 
tude  in  which  he  would  order  several  battalions  to 
search  the  mountains,  and  the  voice  in  which  he  would 
offer  a  reward  of  a  thousand  pounds  to  the  one  who 
should  bring  tidings  of  the  missing  girl. 


CHAPTER  X 

WHAT   THE   PASHA   THOUGHT   OF  HIMSELF 

THE  Pasha  prided  himself  on  knowing  the  Albani 
ans,  yet  he  overlooked  the  fact  that  the  Karadjis 
under  no  circumstances  brought  their  grievances  to 
the  authorities  of  a  government  they  mistrusted  and 
hugely  despised.  When  a  wrong  was  committed  upon 
a  Karadji,  the  men  took  to  their  arms,  and  went  out 
to  right  it;  and  they  did  not  return  until  this  was 
accomplished,  or  until  blood  enough  had  been  shed  to 
cleanse  the  stain.  Now,  one  pipe  after  another  was 
finished,  and  the  Pasha  of  Albania  in  vain  waited  for 
the  Karadjis  to  refer  to  the  girl's  disappearance.  He  was 
baffled,  and  irritated  that  his  preparations  should  be 
wasted. 

At  length  the  Karadjis  intimated  that,  since  they 
were  in  town,  they  would  like  —  with  the  permission 
of  the  Pasha  —  to  go  and  make  some  purchases. 
Meanwhile  he  could  have  the  cadi  draw  up  the  papers 
which  would  free  them  from  the  sheep  and  grass  toll 
for  that  year.  The  Pasha  invited  the  chiefs  to  make 
use  of  his  official  carriages  and  to  return  to  him  for  the 
midday  meal.  Although  the  Karadjis  despised  the 
authorities,  they  were  not  displeased  to  receive  at 
tentions  which  made  it  clear  to  the  public  that  the 


81 


Governor  of  Albania  was  anxious  to  curry  favor  with 
them.  It  proved  that  he  feared  them.  They  accepted 
both  his  offers. 

As  soon  as  the  chiefs  departed,  the  Pasha  sent  for 
the  cadi,  and,  to  do  him  justice,  did  not  draw  up  the 
papers  so  as  to  leave  himself  a  loophole.  However,  he 
had  the  cadi  calculate  the  amount  he  was  losing,  in 
order  that  he  might  extract  it  from  some  one  else. 

The  worthy  Pasha  permitted  himself  a  quiet  half- 
hour  of  meditation  and  repose,  when  his  affairs  had 
progressed  thus  far.  He  felt  that  he  had  well  earned 
it.  Had  any  one  ventured  to  tell  him  that  he  was  a 
bad  man,  he  would  have  been  unmitigated ly  sur 
prised  and  —  had  he  believed  the  accusation  just  — 
not  a  little  disturbed.  He  lived  in  an  age,  and  in  a 
nation,  where  certain  qualities  led  to  preferment  and 
power.  Small  wonder  that  he  esteemed  them  highly, 
and  considered  himself  a  thoroughly  worthy  man  — 
as  men  went.  His  dexterity  of  mind  and  invention, 
his  agility  in  using  his  tongue  to  extricate  himself 
from  dangerous  predicaments  and  to  further  his 
schemes,  were  to  him  the  powers  of  an  able  man,  and 
he  rejoiced  in  the  exercise  of  them  as  a  wrestler  re 
joices  in  the  exercise  of  his  strength  and  skill.  Had  he, 
with  a  niggardly  use  of  his  abilities,  told  the  stupid 
truth,  he  would  have  considered  that  he  richly  merited 
the  failure  which  he  should  expect. 

From  his  present  enterprise  he  anticipated  great 


82          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

things.  Little  as  he  had  seen  of  Trajah,  and  under 
circumstances  not  calculated  to  show  the  brighter, 
more  winning  side  of  her  nature,  he  yet  had  no  fear  but 
that,  if  she  went  to  the  Palace  of  her  own  free  will, 
she  would  attract  and  enthrall  the  Sultan.  She  had 
all  the  delicate  beauty  of  a  bluebell  of  her  own  moun 
tains;  and  to  it  she  united  charm  and  mind  without 
which  mere  beauty  soon  palls.  If  she  looked  upon  him 
as  the  benefactor  of  her  country,  and  if  the  Sultan 
came  to  hold  him  in  high  esteem  for  bringing  him  his 
favorite  wife,  to  what  heights  might  he  not  aspire? 

The  Pasha  felt  himself  in  the  full  bloom  of  his 
powers.  It  is  true  that  his  growing  fat  bothered  him 
a  little.  There  had  been  a  time,  before  Fortune  marked 
him  as  a  favorite,  when  he  had  been  strong  and  skill 
ful  in  body  as  in  mind.  But  though  that  time  was 
past,  he  still  felt  his  mental  powers  as  strong  and 
acute  as  ever,  —  and  he  had  risen  to  the  plane  where 
mind  alone  counted.  The  strong  bodies  of  others  could 
always  be  hired. 

One  move  still  had  to  be  made  before,  at  the  mid 
day  meal,  he  could  give  himself  up  to  the  enjoyment  of 
his  fiery  Albanian  guests.  With  the  sigh  of  a  fat  man 
at  the  necessity  of  motion,  he  struggled  to  his  feet, 
and  waddled  over  for  another  interview  with  Trajah. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   BRIDE   OP   ALBANIA 


w 


"ITH  the  papers  of  the  cadi  in  their  pockets, 
and  comfortably  replete  with  the  food  of 
their  recent  host,  the  Karadji  brothers  were  riding 
toward  their  home  that  afternoon.  In  a  mountain 
pass  a  messenger  awaited  them,  and  delivered  a  letter 
from  Trajah  to  her  father. 

Like  all  Mahometans,  Karadji  Aga  was  supersti 
tious,  and  believed  in  dreams  and  birth-signs.  When 
he  read  that  Trajah  had  been  called  by  Allah  to  fulfill 
her  destiny,  —  a  destiny  she  must  for  the  present 
keep  a  secret  even  from  her  father,  —  he  accepted 
her  word  without  question.  Trajah  asked  that  her 
nurse  be  sent  to  her  with  the  bearer  of  her  letter,  and 
her  father  only  regretted  that  she  was  not  asking 
for  more  slaves  and  gold. 

Trajah  also  wrote  a  letter,  to  be  given  to  the  man 
whose  bride  she  was  to  have  been  that  same  year. 
It  was  a  pathetic  little  note,  written  by  a  girl  whose 
heart  was  breaking,  but  who  had  the  courage  to  live  for 
her  country.  She  told  him  that  she  would  always 
love  him,  but  that  Albania  was  demanding  this  sac 
rifice  from  her,  and  she  was  doing  what  she  was  sure 
he  would  have  done,  had  he  been  asked  to  give  her  up 


84          IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

for  his  country.  And  she  begged  him  to  marry  her 
younger  sister,  whose  betrothed  had  been  killed  in  an 
encounter  with  the  Turks,  and  whose  period  of 
mourning  would  soon  be  over. 

Then  she  wrote:  — 

"The  girdle  I  was  embroidering  for  you  I  shall  take 
with  me.  If  I  fail  in  my  mission,  and  if  Albania  needs 
your  arms,  wherever  I  am  I  shall  finish  it,  and  it  will 
reach  you,  even  if  I  have  to  bring  it  to  you  myself  and 
if  I  have  to  walk  the  whole  distance." 

Her  hand  trembled  as  she  added  what  she  felt  he 
ought  to  know  —  something  which  had  come  to  her 
own  knowledge  only  a  few  days  ago. 

"Allah  has  willed  that  my  sister  should  be  pining 
for  you.  When  this  was  first  revealed  to  me,  I  thought 
Allah  was  cruel.  Now  I  know  that  he  meant  me  to 
leave  you,  and  in  his  great  benevolence  he  arranged 
that  another  woman  should  make  a  home  for  you, 
and  rest  your  weary  head  on  a  breast  throbbing  with 
great  love  for  you." 

Trajah's  pen  remained  in  the  air  while  she  wondered 
whether  the  first  kiss  he  would  give  would  be  for  her 
—  or  for  his  bride. 

A  pang  shot  through  her  at  the  thought  that  her 
sister  would  make  him  forget  her;  but  deep  in  her 
heart  Trajah  was  a  mystic.  She  extended  her  slender 
arms,  palms  upward,  toward  Allah,  praying  that  the 
man  she  loved,  and  the  sister  who  loved  him,  might  be 


THE  BRIDE   OF  ALBANIA  85 

happy  together.  She  had  not  read  the  tragic  life  of  the 
Greek  maiden  Iphigenia,  but  she  repeated  similar 
words  to  hers:  - 

"  For  I  am  wedded  to  Albania ! " 

Trajah's  bruises  healed  quickly.  She  was  bathed 
in  milk,  and  the  salve  of  fresh  cucumbers  was  applied 
to  her.  In  a  fortnight  she  was  entirely  well.  There 
was  not  a  flaw  in  the  white  alabaster  of  her  skin,  not 
a  mark  on  the  velvet  of  her  flesh.  Young  and  exquisite 
as  a  May  morning  rose,  she  was  ready  for  the  sacri 
fice.  With  her  unfinished  belt,  her  nurse,  and  a  mag 
nificent  retinue  provided  by  the  Governor  of  Albania 
she  left  her  country  and  went  to  the  Palace  of  the 
Sultan. 


CHAPTER  XII 

TRAJAH   SULTANA 

fTlHERE  is  nothing  lovelier  in  the  world  than  the 
JL  month  of  June  in  Turkey.  It  is  then  that  the 
sea  and  the  earth  and  the  sky  bedeck  themselves  in 
their  most  radiant  colors:  then  the  blue  is  bluer,  the 
green  greener,  and  the  yellow  becomes  gold.  Myriads 
of  fragrant  roses  blossom  everywhere.  Here  they 
grow  on  single  stems,  there  in  clusters  large  as  small 
trees,  while  again  they  clamber  gracefully  over  trel 
lises.  Now  they  hold  their  heads  proudly  high;  again 
they  bend  downward,  as  if  to  caress  the  mortals  who 
pass  by  them.  The  delicate,  bridal  jasmine  puts 
forth  clouds  of  its  starlike  blossoms,  and  all  the  rest 
of  the  flower  creation  comes  forth  in  unison,  to  offer 
its  color  and  fragrance  to  this  festival  of  the  earth. 

Birds  of  colors  as  brilliant  as  the  flowers,  of  all 
sizes,  and  piping  various  tunes,  flock  from  all  points 
of  the  compass  to  participate  in  Nature's  great  sym 
phony.  And  the  zephyrs,  hurrying  from  the  Black 
Sea  and  the  Marmora,  from  the  Mediterranean  and 
the  Dardanelles,  have  but  one  trysting-place  —  the 
Golden  Horn.  Animated  by  the  freshness  and  mischief 
of  their  youth,  they  rush  about  the  city  of  seven  hills, 
self -constituted  buglers  of  the  Goddess  Demetra. 


87 


In  the  year  1861,  the  month  of  June  seemed  to  be 
trying  to  excel  all  its  predecessors  in  loveliness.  Na 
ture  was  doing  her  best  fora  country  rapidly  advancing 
toward  civilization.  Sultan  Abdul  Medjid  had  ful 
filled  the  promise  of  his  youth.  So  well  had  he  carried 
on  the  reforms  of  Sultan  Mahmoud  that,  after  he  had 
reigned  fourteen  years,  Lord  Palmers  ton  declared  in 
the  House  of  Commons  that  Turkey  had  made  more 
progress  in  the  last  twenty  years  than  any  other 
country. 

Yet  toward  the  end  of  this  month  an  unaccount 
able  sense  of  foreboding  came  over  the  people.  They 
walked  with  muffled  tread;  they  talked  in  whispers. 

Then  suddenly  that  which  had  been  brooding  over 
the  city  broke  forth  into  an  anguished  cry.  From  one 
end  of  the  Empire  to  the  other  the  news  traveled,  as 
the  lightning  darts  across  the  sky,  then  falls  crashing. 

Sultan  Abdul  Medjid  was  no  more! 

He  was  dead,  and  his  people  mourned  him  with 
extreme  abandonment  of  grief.  Did  they  intuitively 
feel  that  with  him  died  the  hope  of  Ottoman  re 
generation?  Did  they  by  miraculous  prescience  fore 
see  the  resumption  of  oppression  and  cruelty,  and  of 
their  national  decline? 

In  a  magnificent  apartment,  furnished  with  all  the 
sumptuousness  of  the  East,  the  great  Sultan  was 
lying,  sleeping  his  last  sleep.  A  young  woman  kneeled 


88  IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

by  his  side,  her  hand  still  clasped  in  the  cold  hand  of 
the  dead.  She  was  softly  sobbing  with  that  sorrow 
which  contains  more  than  the  loss  of  a  loved  one, 
which  contains  the  abandonment  of  great  hopes. 

That  woman  was  the  Albanian  Trajah,  now  Trajah 
Sultana,  the  youngest  and  favorite  wife  of  the  dead 
monarch.  Ever  since  her  entrance  into  the  Palace, 
six  years  ago,  she  had  reigned  supreme.  She  had 
come  to  the  Ottoman  capital  holding  in  her  heart  the 
image  of  another  man.  Then,  miracles  of  miracles,  a 
year  had  not  gone  by  when  that  image  had  become 
blurred  and  gradually  the  face  of  the  Sultan  took  its 
place.  Indeed,  Trajah  had  come  to  love  him  with  a 
love  that  is  rarely  given  to  despots.  And  now,  while 
their  love  was  still  young  and  strong,  her  imperial  hus 
band,  hardly  thirty-eight  years  old,  was  lying  dead. 

During  the  six  years  of  her  wifehood  —  six  years 
in  which  she  had  not  only  possessed  the  ardent  love 
of  her  husband,  but  had  shared  his  dreams  and  ambi 
tions  for  the  regeneration  of  his  country  —  the  un 
tamed  Albanian  girl  had  learned  that  to  be  a  good 
monarch,  just  and  kind,  was  far  more  difficult  than 
she  had  any  conception  of  when  she  had  schemed  and 
plotted  against  the  rule  of  that  monarch  in  her  wild 
mountains.  They  had  talked  together  daily,  planning 
for  a  juster  government,  not  only  for  her  Albania,  but 
for  every  part  of  his  dominion,  unhappy  under  mis 
management. 


TRAJAH  SULTANA  89 

Now  he  was  lying  dead,  beyond  the  reach  of  earthly 
reforms  and  hopes.  Death  had  come  quickly,  cruelly, 
and  the  woman  remained  kneeling,  her  hand  growing 
cold  and  stiff  in  the  warmthless  hand  of  the  man 
whose  blood  a  few  hours  before  had  throbbed  with 
love  for  her  and  for  his  people. 

No  one  disturbed  her.  They  would  fain  leave  the 
dead  monarch  and  his  favorite  wife  alone  together 
as  long  as  might  be.  She  remained  thus  for  a  long 
time.  She  lived  over  and  over  the  six  years  of  her 
wedded  life.  She  saw  the  Sultan  standing  by  her  bed, 
when  she  gave  him  a  son,  a  year  after  her  marriage. 
He  had  loved  this  son  better  than  any  of  his  other 
sons.  "We  shall  make  a  good  ruler  of  him  when  his 
turn  comes,"  he  often  said. 

The  thought  of  little  Medjid  lessened  her  sorrow. 
Yes,  through  him  the  father's  work  some  day  should 
be  carried  on;  through  him  the  father  should  live  again. 
She  did  not  think  of  the  daughter  recently  born  to 
her.  A  girl  counts  for  so  little  in  the  East,  even  when 
she  is  an  imperial  princess.  She  loved  her  tenderly, 
but  it  was  her  son  who  was  her  treasure.1 

As  her  mind  dwelt  on  him,  life  became  normal 
again.  She  rose  to  her  feet.  With  some  effort  she  dis 
engaged  her  hand  from  that  of  her  husband.  Bending 
over  him  she  spoke,  as  if  he  could  hear  her. 

"Sultan  Medjid,  my  lord  and  husband,  I  swear  to 
thee  that  I  shall  bring  thy  son  up  to  be  worthy  of 


90 


thee,  and  when  his  time  comes  to  rule  over  his  people, 
he  shall  do  so  as  thou  wouldst  wish  him  to." 

She  kissed  the  hand  she  had  held  in  her  own;  then 
with  head  erect,  and  noble  resolve  in  every  movement, 
she  left  him,  queen  regent  of  his  hopes. 

From  his  apartment  she  passed  into  that  of  her 
son.  Her  work  for  the  dead  was  done:  her  work  for 
the  living  lay  before  her.  On  a  bed,  golden  of  frame, 
its  coverlet  of  golden  threads  and  embroidered  with 
jewels,  her  son  was  lying  —  her  son,  who  was  to  be 
a  great  Ottoman  monarch,  and  good  to  Albania. 

She  approached  carefully,  not  to  disturb  his  sleep. 
With  maternal  pride,  mingled  with  reverence  for  the 
future  sultan,  she  raised  her  palms  aloft  and  thanked 
Allah  for  this  precious  gift.  Her  face  was  transfigured 
by  the  divine  love  of  motherhood.  She  laid  her  hand 
gently  on  the  costly  coverlets,  which  the  child  in  its 
sleep  seemed  to  have  pulled  up  over  its  head.  A 
smile  of  anticipated  joy  parted  her  lips  as  her  hand 
touched  him.  In  her  mind's  eye  she  already  saw  the  dis 
arranged,  dark  curls,  the  long  black  lashes,  the  mouth 
crimson  and  dewy  as  a  morning  rose,  the  cheeks  white 
as  a  lily,  yet  tinted  with  pink.  She  would  draw  the 
coverlets,  and  he  would  awake  —  her  young  aslan. 
His  face  would  break  into  smiles  at  sight  of  her;  his 
childish  arms  would  extend  to  her;  he  would  draw  her 
head  to  his  breast,  and  he  would  keep  it  there,  while 
his  soft  young  body  would  nestle  close  to  her.  And 


TRAJAH  SULTANA  91 

he  would  lisp  fervent  words  of  love,  which  the  man 
first  learns  to  whisper  to  his  mother. 

Her  heart  palpitating  with  love,  she  pulled  the  bed 
clothes  from  the  face  of  her  son.  But  her  hand  re 
mained,  holding  the  golden  coverlet.  The  divine  light 
fled  from  her  face.  The  smile  died  a  horrible  death 
on  her  drooping  mouth.  Her  features  changed,  her 
eyes  were  those  of  one  demented.  She  stared  and 
stared  at  the  motionless  face  of  her  son,  which  was 
never  again  to  be  lit  by  a  smile  for  his  mother.  For 
little  Medjid  was  dead  —  as  many  an  Ottoman  prince 
has  died  —  by  the  death  of  the  bowstring,  because  he 
who  had  just  ascended  the  throne  had  found  him 
superfluous. 

When  the  comprehension  of  what  had  happened 
at  last  penetrated  to  her  brain,  Trajah,  without  a 
sound,  fell  to  the  floor,  never  to  rise  again  until  that 
day  when  she  should  come  before  her  Maker,  along 
with  the  great  martyrs  of  the  earth,  bringing  to  him 
to  judge  her  woman's  heart,  broken  by  the  crudest 
of  sorrows. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

ORKHAN'S  MOTHER 

T RAJAH'S  nurse,  as  she  had  given  her  mistress 
a  mother's  love,  now  gave  her  a  mother's  grief. 
She  longed  for  her  old  Albanian  home;  yet  she  stayed 
on  in  the  Palace  to  serve  the  little  orphan  Princess 
Zarah.  Among  her  dead  mistress's  belongings  she 
found  an  unfinished  belt,  such  as  Albanian  women  of 
rank  embroider  for  their  warriors.  When  Princess 
Zarah  was  fourteen  years  old,  and  in  appearance  and 
in  spirit  resembled  her  mother,  the  faithful  nurse, 
feeling  her  death  approaching,  confided  to  her  the 
whole  sad  story  of  her  mother,  and  gave  into  her  keep 
ing  the  unfinished  Albanian  belt. 

In  the  depths  of  the  imperial  haremlik,  Zarah 
obscurely  grew  into  womanhood.  With  no  one  to 
love,  her  Albanian  nature  worshiped  the  memory  of 
her  mother,  and  with  her,  Albania.  So  forgotten  was 
she  by  those  in  power  that  it  seemed  as  if  she  were 
doomed  to  celibacy;  for  she  had  already  become  nine 
teen,  and  no  one  had  taken  the  interest  to  arrange  a 
marriage  for  her.  Then  one  day  her  half-brother, 
Sultan  Abdul  Hamid,  wished  to  bestow  a  mark  of 
favor  upon  a  rising  young  statesman.  He  inquired 
if  there  were  not  an  imperial  princess  suitable  in 


ORKHAN'S   MOTHER  93 

age  and  attraction  for  marriage.  It  chanced  that 
Zarah  alone,  at  the  instant,  filled  these  requirements. 
From  her  seclusion  and  insignificance,  Trajah's 
daughter  was  brought  forth  and  bestowed  upon  a 
Turk  already  high  in  power  and  wealth. 

It  is  not  often  that  these  imperial  princesses  are 
welcome  brides ;  but  Zarah's  husband  soon  worshiped 
her,  and  the  love  which  united  them,  and  the  pride 
they  had  in  their  little  son,  Orkhan,  born  to  them  a 
year  after  their  marriage,  became  famous  in  the  serai. 

At  that  time  Sultan  Abdul  Hamid  was  entering  upon 
that  disastrous  period  of  his  reign  when  he  mistrusted 
all  those  around  him.  He  heard  of  the  love  which 
united  his  young  sister  and  her  husband,  and,  suspi 
cious  of  all,  he  feared  even  the  love  of  husband  and 
wife.  One  night  he  sent  for  his  brother-in-law.  What 
happened  no  one  knows.  Princess  Zarah  and  his 
five-year-old  son  never  saw  him  again. 

It  was  then  that  Trajah's  daughter  sent  for  an 
Albanian  teacher  and  learned  the  art  of  their  em 
broidery.  With  her  own  flowerlike  fingers  she  finished 
that  warrior's  belt  which  her  mother  had  begun  in  the 
mountains  of  Albania.  She  girded  it  on  her  son  when 
the  lad  was  only  thirteen,  and  made  him  take  a  vow  to 
avenge  his  father  and  be  good  to  Albania.  As  if  she  had 
only  lived  to  transmit  this  heritage  to  her  son,  the 
Princess,  a  few  months  later,  was  laid  to  sleep  by  the 
side  of  her  mother. 


94  IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

A  cypress  tree  grows  between  the  two  graves,  and 
the  old  gravekeeper  tells  to  those  who  will  listen  to 
his  tales  that  a  pair  of  birds  from  the  mountains  of 
Albania  come  every  spring  to  build  their  nest  on  that 
one  tree,  and  to  keep  the  sleeping  company  with  their 
plaintive  songs. 

And  now  Orkhan,  the  son  of  Princess  Zarah,  stood, 
leaning  over  the  balustrade  of  his  balcony,  lost  in 
thought.  More  than  an  hour  ago  Hakir  Pasha  and 
Halil  Bey,  the  Greek  Righo  and  Tzavat  Bey  had  left 
him,  and  during  that  long  hour  Orkhan,  who  wore 
an  Albanian  belt,  and  Orkhan  the  Turk  had  been  in 
conflict. 

The  stars  above  twinkled  brightly.  They  could 
have  told  a  great  deal  to  Orkhan,  had  they  wished, 
but,  like  all  those  who  dwell  on  the  heights,  they 
little  concerned  themselves  in  the  troubles  of  those 
beneath  them.  And  below  him  the  patient  sea  flip- 
flapped  against  the  walls  of  his  house,  while  Orkhan 
remained  a  prey  to  his  thoughts. 

An  undefinable  sadness  was  over  him,  that  sadness 
which  is  the  heritage  of  those  who  belong  to  the  East. 
His  mind  traveled  from  the  present  to  the  past,  to  the 
two  Albanian  women  who  were  as  brave  as  they  were 
beautiful,  but  who  were  crushed  because  they  were 
too  little  and  their  task  too  great.  And  to  those 
women  of  the  past  came  one  of  the  present,  neither 


ORKHAN'S  MOTHER  95 

dark-haired  nor  brown-eyed,  like  the  women  of  his 
family,  nor  did  she  speak  to  him  of  vows  and  revenge. 
Hers  was  a  face  crowned  with  golden  hair,  her  eyes 
were  made  for  laughter,  for  life,  and  for  love. 

Orkhan  shook  his  head,  frowning  at  this  trend  of  his 
thoughts.  What  had  that  golden  girl  of  the  West  to 
do  with  him,  Orkhan  of  the  Albanian  belt,  Orkhan  the 
Young  Turk?  There  was  work  to  be  done  —  work 
which  he  had  vowed,  and  which  he  wished  to  perform. 
He  forced  his  thoughts  to  come  back  to  the  present 
situation,  to  Hakir  Pasha  and  the  promise  he  had 
given  him.  What  would  the  other  leaders  say  to 
Hakir 's  demands?  What  really  was  in  the  minds  and 
in  the  hearts  of  most  of  the  leaders?  He  wondered  if 
the  unity  of  Turkey  could  be  effected  as  Hakir  wished, 
or  if  the  diverse  nationalities  which  composed  Turkey 
would  become  a  hindrance  to  her  regeneration. 

While  his  mind  pondered  on  these  different  phases 
of  the  problem,  his  hand  unconsciously  rested  on  the 
Albanian  belt  which  he  always  wore  concealed  beneath 
his  clothes,  more  as  a  remembrance  of  his  mother 
than  as  a  pledge  to  Albania;  for,  although  his  mother 
had  taught  him  to  love  Albania,  Orkhan  was  an  Otto 
man,  and  believed  in  the  supremacy  of  the  Ottoman 
race.  He  held  his  head  high  because  he  was  an  Os- 
manli  and  because  in  his  veins  was  the  blood  of  Oth- 
man,  whose  descendants  had  once  been  as  great  rulers 
as  any  history  could  show. 


96  IN   THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

Orkhan  had  thrown  in  his  lot  with  the  Young  Turks, 
in  the  first  place,  animated  by  the  spirit  of  revenge 
bequeathed  him  by  his  mother.  Gradually,  however, 
this  had  become  a  secondary  consideration:  the  love 
of  his  country  and  the  desire  for  its  regeneration  had 
grown  to  be  the  dominant  motive.  In  overthrowing 
the  tyrannical  form  of  government,  the  difficulties 
of  the  present  had,  till  now,  been  enough.  On  this 
night  the  demands  of  to-morrow  were  thrust  before 
him.  Orkhan  was  a  dreamer  and  an  idealist.  He  had 
believed  that  all  those  who  were  working  in  the  cause 
of  Young  Turkey  had,  like  him,  one  aim,  the  making 
of  Turkey  into  a  country  just  to  all  her  subjects.  The 
counter-currents  had  been  forced  upon  his  notice  to 
night  by  Hakir  Pasha  and  Halil  Bey.  There  were 
rancor  and  hatred  in  the  tones  of  the  one;  there  was 
fanatic  passion  in  the  tones  of  the  other.  He  had  never 
doubted  till  now  that  Turkey  regenerated  would  mean 
Albania  well  governed,  Armenians  well  treated,  and 
Greeks  sharing  in  the  government;  and  all,  because 
they  would  be  contented,  forgetting  their  diverse  na 
tionalities.  He  who  had  only  looked  on  the  purely 
ethical  side  of  the  situation,  was  now  facing  the  side 
of  the  average  man,  of  the  factionist,  the  small-minded 
patriot. 

"I  shall  see  the  leaders,"  he  murmured.  "I  shall 
find  out  what  they  think." 

He  left  the  terrace  and  came  back  into  his  room. 


ORKHAN'S    MOTHER  97 

For  a  time  he  worked  on  over  his  maps  and  papers. 
When  he  put  them  away  and  went  to  bed,  and  just 
as  sleep  was  coming  to  him,  all  his  cares  dropped  from 
him.  The  great  problems  of  his  country  retreated. 
Hakir  and  Halil  vanished  ;  and  Orkhan  found  him 
self  by  a  garden  full  of  flowers  and  the  music  of  birds; 
and  she  who  bade  him  enter  was  a  girl  with  golden 
hair,  and  her  eyes  spoke  of  laughter,  of  life,  and  of 
love. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

RIGHO'S   SISTER 

MILLICENT  sat  in  the  window  of  her  room  in  her 
uncle's  house,  idly  regarding  the  little  waves  of 
the  Bosphorus  ruffling  along  before  a  light  northern 
breeze,  as  if  they  had  not  a  second  to  spare  on  this 
lovely  summer  morning. 

"They  're  in  a  mighty  hurry, "she  reflected.  Then, 
after  another  long  survey  of  them:  "Well,  they're 
the  only  things  I've  seen  here  that  are." 

Presently,  though  nothing  in  the  scene  would  seem 
to  warrant  it,  she  frowned  slightly  and  murmured: 
"Anyway,  I  think  it  was  very  rude  of  him." 

Her  thoughts  had  gone  back  to  the  hero  of  her  ad 
venture  of  a  few  days  before.  She  had  written  him 
a  pretty  note  of  thanks,  and  her  uncle  had  supple 
mented  thanks  with  an  invitation  to  luncheon.  In 
faultless  English,  Orkhan  Effendi  had  replied  to  the 
uncle,  regretting  that  he  was  very  busy  and  would  be 
unable  to  avail  himself  of  the  invitation.  To  her  own 
note  he  had  made  no  reply. 

Her  frown  changed  to  a  W7himsical  smile. 

"He  might  at  least  have  embraced  the  opportunity 
to  enter  the  bosom  of  a  refined  Christian  family,  even 
if  he  did  n't  care  to  see  me." 


RIGHO'S  SISTER  99 

The  hot  weather  and  the  conditions  of  the  country 
had  forced  Millicent  into  a  sort  of  apathetic  lazi 
ness.  To-day  was  cooler,  and  her  nature  revolted 
at  this  idleness  so  foreign  to  her.  She  wished,  like 
the  waves,  to  be  doing  something ;  like  them  to  be 
hurrying  toward  some  goal.  Yet  the  hard  part  was 
where  to  begin,  in  this  land  of  latticed  windows, 
closed  doors,  and  high-walled  gardens.  If  Orkhan 
Effendi  had  only  come  to  see  her,  he  might  have 
helped  her. 

Again  she  frowned  at  the  thought  of  him.  She  was 
surprised  and  in  a  measure  displeased  by  the  constant 
reverting  of  her  thoughts  to  him.  It  was  true  that  he 
was  a  remarkable  man;  but  that  was  no  reason  why 
she  should  sit  for  hours  thinking  about  him  and  his 
affairs.  She  excused  herself  by  saying  that  his  aims 
were  similar  to  hers.  From  him  she  might  obtain  a 
truer  insight  into  the  conditions  here  than  she  could 
from  an  outsider,  like  her  uncle,  or  even  from  a  man 
like  Sir  Mohr  MacGreggor,  with  his  cynical  outlook 
on  life.  But  what  was  the  use  of  thinking  about 
Orkhan  Effendi,  if  he  would  not  come  near  her? 

"Well,  I  had  better  write  some  letters,"  she  said 
at  length  with  a  sigh.  "They're  piling  up." 

She  walked  over  to  her  desk,  which  was  by  another 
window,  looking  out  on  the  driveway.  Her  attention 
was  arrested  by  a  high  cart,  between  whose  shafts 
pranced  a  nervous  Arabian  horse,  perfectly  managed 


100         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

by  a  young  girl.  Millicent  recognized  in  the  man  be 
side  the  fair  whip  the  Greek,  Mr.  Righo. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  maid  brought  her  their 
cards :  M.  Nikolas  Paparighopoulos,  Mile.  Elpis  Papa- 
righopoulos. 

"'Elpis'  —  rather  a  pretty  name!  "  thought  Milli 
cent.  "I  hope  she's  as  nice  as  her  brother." 

As  she  went  into  the  darkened  drawing-room,  a  girl 
all  in  white  rose  quickly  and  came  toward  her.  Al 
though  so  slender  as  almost  to  be  boyish  in  figure  and 
unusually  tall,  Elpis  yet  startled  the  eye  with  her 
beauty  of  form.  She  produced  an  impression  of  in 
tense  living.  She  seemed  a  flame,  burning  in  pure 
oxygen,  imprisoned  in  a  woman's  form. 

All  this  Millicent  did  not  perceive  at  once.  At  first, 
she  was  chiefly  conscious  of  Elpis's  luminous  brown 
eyes,  shining  in  the  semi-obscurity. 

"Miss  Grey,"  she  exclaimed,  "I  just  made  my 
brother  bring  me  over  this  morning,  because  I  be 
came  tired  of  waiting  for  him  to  find  time  in  the  after 
noon." 

"I'm  so  glad  you  did.  I  was  wondering  when  he 
would  keep  his  promise  of  letting  me  know  you." 

"I  have  already  seen  you,"  Elpis  went  on,  "that 
time  you  sprang  upon  the  boat  after  it  was  going." 

"I  don't  believe  Elpis  will  ever  quite  forgive  you  for 
that,"  Righo  put  in,  as  he  was  shaking  hands  with 
Millicent.  "She  never  did  that  herself,  and  is  wildly 


RIGHO'S  SISTER  101 

jealous.  She  has  lain  awake  at  night  ever  since,  trying 
to  think  of  some  more  daring  method  of  boarding  a 
steamer.  I  fancy  she  will  try  to  make  Caesarino  take 
the  leap  while  she  is  on  his  back,  —  and  the  worst  of 
it  is  he  will  do  it." 

"Nonsense,  Niko,"  Elpis  protested.  "But  I  will 
confess  that  I  fell  in  love  with  you  on  the  spot.  And 
when  I  heard  that  this  lucky  brother  of  mine  had  met 
you  —  well,  I  have  given  him  no  peace  till  he  brought 
me  over  to  see  you." 

While  Elpis  was  speaking,  Millicent  was  taking 
note  of  her  guest.  She  had  already  seen  several  Greek 
women,  renowned  as  beauties  of  this  capital,  but 
none  of  them  possessed  the  undefinable  gift  of  charm 
in  any  such  degree  as  did  Elpis.  Her  waving  hair  she 
wore  loose  and  low  on  the  neck,  held  by  a  gold  clasp. 
Her  features  were  exquisite,  as  if  cut  by  a  master 
hand;  yet  one  hardly  noticed  them,  so  mobile  were 
they,  so  constantly  lighted  by  the  feeling  within. 

The  hour  she  spent  with  her  new  Greek  friends  was 
to  Millicent  the  best  she  had  yet  had  in  Turkey. 
There  was  a  tomboyishness  about  Elpis  which  was 
delightful,  lacking  as  it  did  any  trace  of  the  vulgarity 
which  frequently  goes  with  it. 

They  touched  on  nothing  except  the  most  casual 
topics,  yet  Millicent  knew  that  she  liked  the  sister 
quite  as  well  as  she  had  liked  the  brother.  When  they 
rose  to  go  Elpis  said:  - 


102         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"  We  live  on  the  Asiatic  side  of  the  river."  Without 
any  apparent  sequence  of  thought  she  added:  "You 
are  as  nice  as  you  are  pretty,  and  as  interesting  as  you 
are  daring.  Will  you  be  friends  with  me?" 

"I  should  love  to,"  Millicent  cried. 

Elpis  kissed  her  on  both  cheeks,  and  shaking  her 
hand  vigorously  said :  — 

"Then  it  is  a  pact!  And  now,  when  are  you  coming 
to  stay  several  days  with  me?" 

Millicent  showed  her  surprise  at  this  rapid  progres 
sion  of  affairs. 

Righo  laughed. 

"Don't  be  alarmed,"  he  said.  "It  is  quite  uncon 
ventional,  I  know;  but  we  are  respectable,  though 
Elpis  does  a  lot  of  things  that  scandalize  our  people. 
She  is  a  sort  of  persona  grata." 

"I  am  very  rich,  you  know,"  Elpis  explained  sim 
ply,  "so  they  overlook  my  "  —  she  laughed  —  "my 
Americanisms,  they  call  them.  The  mothers  and  sis 
ters  of  marriageable  young  men  are  very  kind  to  me, 
and,"  with  a  sigh,  "there  are  so  many  marriageable 
young  men." 

Her  humorous  appreciation  of  herself  as  a  matri 
monial  catch  was  irresistible,  and  Millicent  laughed 
till  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes. 

"I  suppose  you  will  have  to  ask  permission  of 
your  aunt  —  so  I'll  give  you  three  days,"  Elpis  went 
on.  "Then  I  will  come  over  and  fetch  you  in  my  boat." 


RIGHO'S  SISTER  103 

"You  can  see,  Miss  Grey ,  that  I  have  not  succeeded 
in  bringing  up  my  sister  conventionally,"  Righo  said. 

Elpis  gave  a  quick  boyish  laugh. 

"You  poor  bear  of  a  brother!  Do  you  really  take 
the  responsibility  of  my  character  on  your  shoulders, 
simply  because  you  are  my  legal  guardian?" 

Then  her  manner  changed.  Going  swiftly  to  her 
brother  she  put  her  hand  on  his  breast,  and  said  in 
caressing  tones  that  were  a  revelation  of  another 
side  of  her  nature:  "You  dear  Niko!" 

When  the  Greeks  had  gone,  Millicent  sank  into  a 
comfortable  chair,  and  there  her  aunt  found  her. 

"I  hear  you  have  had  visitors,"  the  elder  lady  said 
with  interest. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Paparighopoulos  and  his  sister  were 
here." 

"How  sorry  I  am  to  have  missed  them.  I  have 
never  met  her.  They  call  her  —  dear  me,  what  is  it? 
Oh,  yes  —  'polyphernos  nymphe*  —  'the  much-bring 
ing  bride.'  They  are  very  rich,  and  belong  to  one  of 
the  old  Phanariot  families.  The  Phanariots  seldom 
call  on  any  foreigners  —  you  must  have  made  a 
tremendous  impression  on  Mr.  Righo.  She's  very 
eccentric  and  athletic,  is  n't  she?" 

"I  thought  her  quite  the  most  charming  person  I 
have  met  in  years,"  Millicent  answered.  "And  she 
did  n't  do  any  athletic  stunts  for  me." 

"I  hope  she  will  come  again.  I  should  love  to  meet 


104         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

her.  One  hears  such  extraordinary  tales  about  her. 
She  keeps  a  stable  on  this  side  of  the  Bosphorus,  as 
well  as  on  the  other,  so  that  she  can  always  drive  her 
own  horses.  That's  why  they  call  her  masculine,  I 
suppose." 

"One  stable  being  feminine  —  and  two  masculine," 
Millicent  laughed.  "She  has  asked  me  to  make  her 
a  visit,  if  you  will  graciously  permit,  and  has  given 
me  three  days  to  reply  to  her  —  her  ultimatum." 

"Really!  Is  that  what  she  called  it?  Of  course  you 
may  go.  It  is  so  difficult  to  get  into  the  houses  of 
those  old  Phanariots.  They  must  be  ridiculously  be 
hind  the  times,  but  very  interesting,  all  the  same." 

Three  days  later,  Elpis,  unchaperoned,  and  dressed 
in  a  simple  linen  suit,  came  for  Millicent. 

"May  I  keep  her  for  a  week?"  she  asked  of  Mrs. 
Appleby,  with  charming  deference. 

"Indeed  you  may,"  the  latter  replied  cordially. 

Elpis  had  driven  up  with  the  same  nervous  Arabian. 

:'This  is  Altheon,"  she  said,  before  getting  into  the 
trap,  in  the  manner  of  performing  an  introduction. 

The  horse  pawed  the  ground  and  thrust  forward  his 
nose  for  a  pat  from  his  mistress. 

:' You  will  meet  Caesarino  on  the  other  side,"  Elpis 
continued  as  they  were  driving  off.  "  Poor  Altheon,  he 
gets  so  restless  and  lonely  on  this  side,  without  seeing 
me  every  day.  Sometimes  for  a  week  he  only  has  Er- 
togroul  to  talk  to.  I  believe  I  will  petition  the  Sultan 


RIGHO'S  SISTER  105 

to  let  me  put  in  one  of  your  wonderful  American  tele 
phones,  so  that  I  can  talk  to  him  every  day  in  his 
stall.  Don't  you  think  that  would  make  him  more 
contented?" 

She  spoke  with  absolute  seriousness,  and  Milli- 
cent  in  the  same  tone  replied :  — 

"In  case  the  Sultan  does  not  consent  to  a  telephone, 
you  might  keep  a  phonograph  in  the  stall.  You  could 
talk  long  talks  into  it,  and  have  your  groom  grind 
them  off  to  Altheon.  He  could  also  soothe  him  with 
records  of  the  opera.  Is  Altheon  fond  of  the  opera?" 

Elpis  burst  out  laughing. 

"Ah!  you  are  making  fun  of  me.  I  don't  believe 
you  consider  a  horse  a  human  being." 

At  one  of  the  landings  on  the  Bosphorus,  a  slim 
caique,  red-awninged,  and  manned  by  three  rowers 
in  white  pembezar  and  red  silk  sashes,  was  awaiting 
them. 

"I  thought  you  would  rather  go  this  way  than  by 
steamer,"  Elpis  said.  "  It  is  only  about  an  hour's  row." 

A  caiktshi  sprang  out  and  helped  Millicent  into  the 
boat. 

Elpis  turned  to  take  leave  of  her  horse. 

"Good-bye,  Altheon  dear."  She  put  her  cheek 
next  to  the  horse's.  "I  shall  see  you  soon  again." 

The  caique  leaped  forth  upon  the  little  waves  of 
the  Bosphorus,  and  swiftly  drew  near  the  other  shore. 
It  seemed  to  the  American  girl  nearer  a  half  than  a 


106         IN   THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

full  hour. before  they  came  to  the  Paparighopoulos 
landing. 

With  a  lively  sense  of  curiosity  she  stepped  from 
the  boat,  and  walked  with  her  hostess  up  the  wooded 
path  to  the  house.  Her  vague  ideas  of  Oriental  luxury 
were  disappointed  when  the  villa  itself  came  into  view. 

It  was  a  spacious  but  simple  wooden  structure, 
painted  white,  with  red  awnings  at  the  windows. 
There  were  several  porches,  covered  and  uncovered, 
and,  although  the  house  suggested  comfort,  it  cer 
tainly  lacked  splendor. 

As  they  reached  the  steps,  Elpis  held  out  her  hand 
to  Millicent. 

"Welcome!"  she  said.  "May  your  stay  here  bring 
you  happiness.'* 

At  that  instant  a  black  cloud  passed  over  the  sun. 

"Wait!   Don't  move  a  step!"  Elpis  cried. 

Taken  aback,  Millicent  stopped  abruptly. 

The  Greek  girl  laughed.  "It's  nothing,  only  I  did 
not  want  you  to  touch  the  house  while  it  was  under  a 
cloud.  Now  it  has  gone.  May  it  take  all  bad  fortune 
with  it!"  She  extended  her  hand  to  Millicent  again. 
"Come,  and  welcome!" 

Hand  in  hand  they  mounted  the  steps,  and  passed 
through  a  large  hall  up  the  stairs  to  the  second  floor. 
Elpis  conducted  her  guest  to  the  rooms  assigned  her. 

"Here  is  your  domain,  my  American  friend.  Here 
you  command,  and  you  are  obeyed.  Au  revoir,  now." 


RIGHO'S   SISTER  107 

The  rooms  were  furnished  in  a  way  that  seemed 
bare  to  Millicent.  There  was  nothing  more  than  one 
might  find  in  an  American  household  of  moderate 
means,  where  the  mistress  was  an  uncommonly 
good  housekeeper.  The  rugs  alone  came  up  to  her 
expectations.  They  were  Persian,  old  and  rich. 

A  few  minutes  after  her  arrival,  a  maid  entered  with 
a  tray  on  which  were  a  jar  of  preserves,  teaspoons,  and 
a  glass  of  water. 

Millicent  hesitated,  not  knowing  exactly  what  she 
was  expected  to  do. 

"Will  mademoiselle  not  taste?"  the  maid  asked 
in  French. 

Millicent  took  a  spoonful  of  the  preserves,  and  a 
delicious  aroma  like  attar  of  roses  pervaded  her  whole 
being. 

"I  forgot  to  warn  you,"  said  Elpis,  entering  the 
room,  "of  our  custom  of  greeting  a  guest  with  sweet 
meats.  Only  a  few  of  the  old-fashioned  families,  like 
ourselves,  keep  it  up  now  —  though  they  still  do  it 
in  the  middle  classes." 

"Do  tell  me  where  you  get  those  candied  rose- 
leaves,"  Millicent  asked.  "I  never  tasted  anything 
quite  so  delicious." 

"Come  out  into  the  gardens  and  I  will  show  you." 

Elpis  linked  her  arm  in  Millicent's,  and  took  her 
out  behind  the  house.  Again  the  American  was  sur 
prised;  for  if  the  house  was  marked  by  plainness,  the 


108         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

gardens  had  all  the  luxuriousness  that  any  imagina 
tion  could  picture.  One  of  them  was  entirely  given 
over  to  roses,  planted  as  methodically  in  rows  as  an 
orchard. 

"We  call  these  the  roses-of -sweets,  and  they  are 
raised  solely  for  making  that  confection,"  Elpis 
said. 

Here  the  scent  of  the  roses  was  overpowering,  and 
always  afterwards  the  heavy  scent  of  roses  recalled 
to  Millicent  this  Greek  household  and  the  events 
which  followed  on  her  visit  to  it. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE   STEPSONS   OF   TURKEY 


W""HEN  Millicent  came  down  for  luncheon  her 
host  was  in  the  hall,  and  with  him  three 
young  Greeks.  Righo  greeted  her  by  touching  her 
hand  with  his  lips,  and  then  presented  his  friends, 
M.  Aravantinos,  M.  Spatharis,  and  M.  Negrepontis. 

Elpis's  white-clad  figure  appeared  in  the  doorway 
of  the  dining-room. 

"To  luncheon,  children!"  she  called. 

It  was  a  simple  meal,  simply  served.  Evidently 
these  men  came  together  not  to  eat  rich  food,  but  to 
talk  with  each  other  while  they  were  eating.  Their 
conversation  was  of  politics  —  politics  of  the  world 
at  large,  but  chiefly  as  they  affected  Greece  and 
Turkey. 

It  became  evident  to  the  American  girl,  as  she 
listened  to  their  talk,  that  these  Greeks,  born  and 
brought  up  in  Turkey,  whose  fathers  and  forefathers 
had  been  Turkish  subjects,  and  who  had  made  their 
fortunes  in  the  land  now  belonging  to  the  Turks, 
were  living  with  their  faces  turned  toward  the  Acro 
polis.  They  were  disloyal  to  the  banner  under  which 
they  were  born,  but  loyal  to  death  to  that  other  one 
which  represented  the  fatherland  to  them. 


110         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

What  surprised  Millicent  above  all  was  the  freedom 
with  which  they  spoke  of  their  hopes. 

"Are  you  not  afraid,"  she  asked,  laughing,  "that 
I  may  be  a  spy?" 

Her  host  echoed  her  laugh,  but  his  was  fraught  with 
that  pathos  which  is  the  attribute  of  the  thinking 
Greeks  who  are  still  subject  to  Turkey. 

"Miss  Grey,"  he  protested,  "suffering  teaches  men, 
as  well  as  animals,  to  recognize  their  friends  and  their 
enemies,  at  once.  You  could  not  be  an  enemy:  you 
come  directly  from  Heaven,  to  remind  us,  perhaps, 
that  all  our  differences  are  earthly,  and  that  in  the 
world  to  come  we  shall  all  be  brothers,  with  only  one 
flag  to  love." 

"And  that  flag  will  be  blue,  with  a  white  cross  on 
it,"  cried  Negrepontis,  caressing  his  silky  beard. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  some  red  stripes  and  a  few 
stars?"  Millicent  asked  teasingly. 

"That  makes  a  beautiful  flag,  I  grant,"  admitted 
the  Greek;  "but  it  is  the  flag  of  a  daughter.  The 
mother  must  have  precedence." 

"And  the  crimson  flag  with  the  white  crescent  — 
what  will  you  do  with  it?"  Elpis  inquired. 

"It  is  not  crimson,"  Aravantinos  replied.  "It  is 
blood  red.  If  Hell  needs  a  flag,  let  it  have  it." 

Millicent  shuddered  at  the  ferocity  in  his  voice, 
and  the  face  of  Orkhan,  the  Young  Turk,  came  clearly 
before  her.  Could  he  bring  about  the  regeneration  of 


THE  STEPSONS  OF  TURKEY         111 

his  country,  when  those  who  ought  to  be  his  brothers 
spoke  like  this? 

"Turkey  is  your  country  —  your  mother,  in  a  way, 
is  she  not?"  she  asked. 

"  Our  mother  -  '  Aravantinos  gave  the  suggestion 
consideration.  "No,  Miss  Grey,  Turkey  is  not  our 
mother,  not  our  country.  It  might  have  been  so ;  and 
we  might  in  time  have  learned  to  look  upon  Turkey  as 
our  fatherland,  if  this  had  been  permitted  us  by  the 
conqueror." 

"But  surely  the  Turks  wish  you  to  love  Turkey, 
and  to  look  upon  it  as  your  country?" 

Aravantinos  shook  his  head,  his  eyes  sparkling 
with  resentment. 

"No!  The  Turks  have  never  permitted  us  to  look 
upon  the  land,  which  for  hundreds  of  years  belonged 
to  us,  in  any  other  light  except  as  their  country.  They 
forbid  us  the  privilege  of  defending  her  as  soldiers, 
and  they  refuse  us  the  right  of  equal  citizenship.  We 
are  here  solely  on  sufferance." 

"Don't  you  know,  Miss  Grey,"  Righo  went  on, 
"that  it  is  essential  for  a  people  to  have  a  national 
ideal.  The  Turks  have  denied  us  the  right  to  love 
Turkey  —  so  we  love  Greece." 

Spatharis  explained  the  situation  a  little  further. 

"When  the  Turkish  armies  returned  victorious  from 
war,  the  Greeks  were  not  allowed  to  participate  in  the 
national  rejoicings;  and  when  the  armies  returned 


IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

in  defeat,  if  the  Greeks  dared  to  show  any  sympathy, 
it  was  bitterly  resented.  You  do  not  believe  that  for 
five  hundred  years  we  should  have  kept  our  hatred 
for  the  Turks  so  vivid,  if  they  did  nothing  to  keep  it 
alive?" 

"You  have,  then,  no  affection  for  them  at  all?" 
Millicent  asked,  remembering  what  Righo  had  told 
her  about  Orkhan. 

"Oh  yes,  we  love  individuals  among  them,"  replied 
her  host,  "and  we  recognize  the  many  superb  quali 
ties  of  the  race;  but  we  have  suffered  too  much  at  their 
hands  to  love  them  as  a  whole." 

"Still  you  work  with  them  for  the  regeneration  of 
Turkey?" 

"We  do  so,"  said  Aravantinos  in  his  vehement  way, 
"because  we  trust  that  when  a  constitution  shall  be 
granted  to  the  country,  Turkey  will  belong  as  much 
to  the  Greeks  as  it  does  to  the  Turks." 

A  peal  of  laughter  from  Elpis  made  them  all  turn 
their  eyes  on  her. 

"My  poor  misguided  Greeks!  When  are  you  going 
to  learn  not  to  trust  the  Turks.  Do  you  really  be 
lieve  that  if  ever  there  is  a  constitution  the  Young 
Turks  will  present  you  Turkey  on  a  platter?  If  you 
were  far-seeing,  you  would  work  for  Turkey's  com 
plete  demoralization,  rather  than  for  its  regeneration. 
The  Turks  may  have  admirable  qualities,  but  they 
keep  them  for  their  homes  and  their  guests  —  they 


THE  STEPSONS  OF  TURKEY         113 

never  bring  them  into  their  national  life.  As  a  race 
they  belong  to  Asia :  they  have  no  business  in  Europe." 

She  pushed  back  her  chair  and  rose  to  her  feet. 

"Let's  have  coffee  on  the  terrace;  and  don't  talk 
any  more  politics.  I  don't  wish  you  to  tire  my  friend." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

SMOKING  LAMPS 

AFTER  the  men  had  gone  away,  Elpis  linked  her 
arm  in  that  of  Millicent,  saying,  "Come!  Let 
us  go  up  to  the  eastern  porch,  where  it  is  coolest  at 
this  time  of  day." 

There  were  long  chairs  for  reclining,  and  when  the 
two  were  comfortably  seated,  the  Greek  girl  asked 
abruptly:  - 

"How  did  you  like  our  guests?" 

"I  thought  them  charming." 

Elpis  made  a  face.  "When  I  ask  you  a  question, 
please  don't  put  me  off  with  the  conventionally 
proper  reply." 

"But  don't  you  think  they  are,  Elpis?" 

"If  you  mean  that  they  have  good  manners,  and 
wear  their  clothes  well,  yes,  I  agree  with  you.  But 
what  do  you  think  of  them  as  human  beings?  They 
are  my  suitors,  you  know. " 

"How  can  I  tell?   I  have  only  seen  them  to-day." 

''You  must  learn  to  judge  quickly.  Life  is  too 
short." 

"Can  you  judge  a  person  the  first  time  you  see 
him?" 

"Yes.  We  Greeks  generally  do." 


SMOKING  LAMPS  115 

"And  you  are  never  mistaken?" 

"Sometimes.  But  what  does  it  matter,  if  oftener 
we  are  not?  Now  I  made  up  my  mind  about  you  that 
day  on  the  boat." 

"Just  from  an  athletic  stunt?" 

"Not  at  all.  Athletic  stunts  are  something  of  a  na 
tional  vice  with  you  Americans.  While  you  were  ab 
sorbed  in  the  landscape,  I  studied  you.  And  I  found 
out  a  great  deal  about  you  —  some  things,  perhaps, 
which  even  you  yourself  don't  know." 

The  American  girl  laughed.  "Really!  What  are 
they?" 

"I  watched  some  one  else,  too:  Orkhan  Effendi. 
He  was  watching  you." 

At  the  unexpected  mention  of  this  name,  Millicent, 
to  her  annoyance,  felt  her  cheeks  reddening. 

"He  was  very  good  to  me  that  day,"  she  re 
marked. 

"Yes,  I  know.  My  brother  told  me.  Have  you 
seen  him  since?" 

"No.  My  uncle  wrote  and  asked  him  to  luncheon, 
but  he  declined  the  invitation." 

"That  was  very  decent  of  him." 

Millicent  turned,  surprised,  to  her  hostess. 

"Decent!  Why?" 

"Because  of  all  the  unhappy  things  one  sees  in  this 
country,  a  love-affair  between  you  two  would  be  the 
saddest.' 


116        IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"How  very  Oriental  you  are,  Elpis!  Cannot  two 
people  see  each  other  without  falling  in  love?  I 
have  as  many  men  friends  in  America  as  I  have 
girls." 

"Yes  —  in  America.  American  men  are  wonderful 
—  they  are  unique.  If  Orkhan  came  to  see  you,  it 
would  not  be  for  friendship." 

"And  why  do  you  take  it  for  granted  that  if  he 
made  love  to  me,  I  — " 

Elpis  did  not  reply  to  the  unfinished  question. 

"You  made  more  than  a  little  impression  on  Ork 
han  Effendi,  that  day,  and  he  knew  that  it  was 
wiser  to  stay  away.  Not  many  men  would  have 
had  the  decency  to  do  so,  whether  it  were  wiser 
or  not." 

Millicent  would  not  be  put  off.  Working  herself 
into  a  bit  of  temper,  she  persisted :  — 

if  You  have  n't  told  me  yet  why  you  look  on  me  as 
a  little  woolly  lamb,  ready  to  love  any  one  who  gives 
me  a  pat." 

"I  said  before  that  there  were  many  things  about 
you  which  you  yourself  did  n't  know.  One  of  them  is 
that  the  primitive  woman  in  you  —  if  she  ever  rules  — 
will  give  you  trouble.  Orkhan  Effendi  is  just  the  man 
to  awake  that  primitive  woman,  —  and  who  would 
defend  you  against  her?  " 

"You  forget  that  I  am  an  American  girl,  and  that 
we  are  capable  of  taking  care  of  ourselves.  I  think 


SMOKING  LAMPS  117 

we  are  more  intellectual  and  less  physical  than  other 
women." 

For  a  while  Elpis  seemed  absorbed  in  placing  the 
finger-tips  of  one  hand  with  precision  against  the 
finger-tips  of  the  other. 

Millicent  watched  her  with  some  irritation. 

"I  don't  think  you  believe  me." 

Elpis  laughed. 

"You  are  already  influenced  by  the  Greek  atmos 
phere.  You  begin  to  judge  quickly.  No,  I  do  not  believe 
you.  In  every  one  of  us,  whether  we  be  Eastern  or 
Western,  there  is  a  primitive  creature,  ready  to  answer 
the  call  of  Nature.  If  you  American  women  do  not 
answer  to  this  call,  it  is  because  your  men  do  not 
make  it.  They  appeal  to  something  higher  in  you, 
and  so  the  primitive  woman  becomes  subservient. 
But  I  have  seen  American  women  here,  and  when 
they  heard  the  call,  how  quickly  they  answered  to  it. 
One,  as  nice  as  you,  from  the  very  best  of  your  stock, 
—  oh !  it  was  pitiful !  And  the  Turk  in  her  case  was 
as  inferior  to  Orkhan  Effendi  as  a  cart-horse  is  to 
a  thoroughbred.  Ah!  my  dear  Millicent,  when  the 
storm  rages,  it  is  almost  divine  in  its  atrocity.  If  the 
primitive  woman  ever  wakes  in  you,  come  to  me,  for 
you  will  need  mothering." 

In  the  dark  eyes  of  the  Greek  girl  burned  a  light, 
which  seemed  only  to  reveal  unfathomable  depths. 
But  Millicent  had  become  quite  composed.  The  dis- 


118         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

cussion  had  done  her  good:  it  had  convinced  her  of 
her  own  strength. 

In  an  instant'  Elpis's  mood  changed.  She  be 
came  again  the  laughing,  slightly  cynical  girl  that  the 
world  knew. 

"You  know,  my  dear,  if  my  brother  were  good 
enough  for  you,  I  should  do  my  best  to  make  you  my 
sister.  But  he  is  a  burned-out  lamp." 

"  Why  do  you  call  him  that?  " 

"Because  he  is.  All  those  who  were  here  to-day 
are  —  most  of  the  Greeks  of  their  class  are,  and  those 
who  are  not  burned-out  are  smoking.  They  start  burn 
ing  their  oil  foolishly  from  the  time  they  are  very 
young.  In  a  few  years  it  is  all  gone.  Every  beautiful 
emotion  which  God  has  given  them  to  cultivate  through 
life,  is  forced  and  wasted  in  ten  years.  Then  they  settle 
down  and  marry  —  and  make  excellent  husbands, 
as  excellence  is  considered  in  this  part  of  the  world. 
But  the  girls  who  marry  them  are  young,  with  all 
life's  gifts  ready  to  blossom.  They  bring  to  their  hus 
bands  the  treasures  of  their  hearts — only  to  discover 
that  the  men  have  no  longer  any  use  for  them.  That 
is  why  we  are  the  race  we  are  to-day.  We  inherit  the 
Hellenic  dreams  which  have  kept  our  race  alive  for 
so  many  centuries,  in  spite  of  conquests;  but  we  do 
not  receive  from  our  fathers  strength  to  turn  dreams 
into  action.  I  shall  never  marry." 

"But  there  are  other  men  — " 


SMOKING  LAMPS  119 

"I  do  not  believe  in  marrying  out  of  my  class,  as 
I  do  not  believe  in  marrying  out  of  my  religion. 
Neither  matters  —  but  both  matter  a  great  deal.  It 
is  the  way  a  man  worships  his  God  and  puts  on  his 
gloves  that  makes  him  congenial  or  not  to  you." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

A   MODERN    NAUSIKAA 

THE  perfume  of  flowers  floated  up  on  the  light 
morning  breeze,  in  through  the  window  of 
Millicent's  room,  and  caressed  her  in  her  sleep.  The 
singing  of  birds  fell  upon  her  unhearing  ears,  and 
slowly,  very  slowly,  made  their  way  through  sleep- 
bound  senses  to  her  consciousness.  She  half  awoke, 
and  in  luxurious  enjoyment  kept  herself  from  waking 
further  to  a  world  which  could  not  be  so  delicious  as 
this  scented  and  musical  borderland. 

But  this  state  of  languorous  contentment  could  not 
last  long  in  its  perfect  semi-consciousness,  and  with 
a  sigh  of  regret,  she  woke  up  fully  to  the  sun-bathed 
morning,  and  pulled  the  bell-rope  at  the  head  of  her 
bed. 

The  French  maid  appeared  with  magical  prompt 
ness,  and  presented  her  tray  of  sweets  and  fresh 
water. 

"I  should  like  a  bath,"  said  Millicent. 

"Mademoiselle  Elpis  is  waiting  for  you." 

And  even  as  she  was  speaking,  the  Greek  girl  came 
into  the  room. 

"And  how  have  we  slept?"  she  inquired. 

"  Beautifully !  I  should  like  to  sleep  it  all  over  again. ' ' 


A  MODERN  NAUSIKAA  121 

"And  what  bathing  do  you  prefer  —  salt,  or 
fresh?  The  Bosphorus  is  waiting,  and  fresh  water  is  in 
the  house." 

"I  would  rather  have  a  fresh  bath,"  Millicent  an 
swered,  wondering  a  little  how  the  bath  would  be 
arranged.  She  had  not  seen  a  bathroom  in  the  house. 

"So  would  I,  in  the  morning.  In  the  afternoon 
we  can  have  sea-bathing.  Now,  come!  I  have  been 
waiting  so  that  we  might  bathe  together  on  this  first 
morning  of  yours  in  our  house." 

Millicent  threw  on  a  light  wrapper  and  followed 
Elpis.  At  the  end  of  the  hall  the  latter  pushed  open 
a  door,  and  motioned  to  Millicent  to  enter. 

It  was  a  small  marble  corridor,  where  the  tempera 
ture  was  certainly  a  hundred.  From  this  they  entered 
a  room  in  which  the  heat  was  still  more  intense.  Its 
walls  were  of  unbroken  marble,  the  light  coming 
through  the  ceiling  of  iridescent  glass.  A  low  marble 
platform  ran  around  three  sides  of  the  room,  and 
there  were  faucets  over  marble  basins  at  intervals. 
From  the  ceiling  hung  three  silver  candelabra,  deco 
rated  with  branches  of  laurel. 

"What  a  lovely  bathroom!"  Millicent  cried.  Then 
a  misgiving  seized  her. 

But  of  this  the  other  girl  was  unaware.  She  stepped 
out  into  the  corridor,  divested  herself  of  her  wraps, 
and  taking  out  her  golden  comb,  let  her  dark  hair  fall 
about  her  shoulders.  Like  a  nymph  from  the  forests 


of  Olympus,  she  returned  to  the  bathing-room.  She 
went  from  basin  to  basin,  turning  on  the  hot  water. 
Then  taking  a  silver  bowl  she  dipped  up  the  water  and 
threw  it  on  the  marble  floor,  which  slanted  impercep 
tibly.  The  water  splashed  and  sang,  and  ran  off  the 
platform  in  rivulets.  From  a  pile  of  Greek  laurel  in 
one  corner  of  the  room,  Elpis  chose  a  large  branch. 
She  broke  it  into  small  pieces,  and  dipped  these  in 
the  hot  water,  and  the  aroma  of  laurel  filled  the  room. 
Fascinated,  Millicent  wratched  her.  She  was  trans 
ported  back  thousands  of  years  to  the  time  when 
Greece  led  the  world,  and  when  her  maidens,  sur 
rounded  by  their  attendants,  bathed  in  the  Attic 
streams.  Every  motion  of  the  Greek  girl  was  grace 
itself,  and  her  absolute  disregard  for  clothing  seemed 
to  the  American  the  most  exquisite  thing  she  had  ever 
seen.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  realized  that 
there  might  be  more  innocence  in  nakedness  than  in 
clothes.  Elpis  had  not  been  taught  to  be  ashamed  of 
her  beautiful  body,  as  Millicent  had  not  been  taught 
to  be  ashamed  of  her  face.  And  Millicent,  who  had 
at  first  clung  to  her  garments  with  prudish  modesty, 
now,  as  simply  as  Elpis,  divested  herself  of  them,  and 
entered  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

ELPIS  ASKS   FOR   A    SIGN 

THEIR  bath  over,  the  two  girls  breakfasted. 
Millicent  went  out  on  the  porch,  and  Elpis  to 
her  duties.  Rich  as  she  was,  she  had  no  housekeeper. 
She  saw  to  everything  herself,  from  the  cook  to  the 
gardeners,  and  to  the  work  of  the  most  insignificant 
servant  in  the  house. 

Her  tasks  accomplished,  she  came  to  the  porch, 
where  Millicent  sat  reading.  She  threw  herself  on  a 
comfortable  chair  and  asked:  — 

"What  is  there  in  Turkey  that  you  wish  most  to 
see?" 

"A  harem." 

"I  did  expect  more  originality  of  you.  Every 
*  tripper'  who  spends  three  days  in  Constantinople 
wants  to  see  a  harem.  Fortunately  there  are  a  few 
whose  occupants  are  as  anxious  to  be  seen  as  foreigners 
are  to  see  them.  I  will  take  you  to  one;  but  I  confess 
again,  I  am  disappointed  in  you." 

:'Your  Greek  intuition  plays  you  false  this  time. 
I  do  not  care  to  see  a  modernized  harem.  I  wish  to 
know  the  real  Turkish  woman,  and  to  understand  her 
psychology  and  her  needs." 

Elpis's  big  brown  eyes  studied  Millicent. 


124 


"You  are  my  guest,  and  I  should  love  to  give  you 
pleasure;  but  the  real  Turkish  women  shrink  from 
being  viewed,  and  dislike  the  idea  of  infidels  crossing 
their  thresholds.  I  do  not  think  mere  curiosity  excuse 
to  take  you  to  such  a  harem." 

"My  object  is  not  mere  curiosity." 

"If  you  wish  to  write  about  them,  that  is  one  rea 
son  the  more  why  I  should  not  take  you.  You  will 
misunderstand  and  misrepresent  them." 

"Elpis,  I  did  not  come  to  Constantinople  just  for 
amusement,"  Millicent  said  earnestly.  "I — "  she 
hesitated. 

Elpis  curled  herself  up  more  comfortably  in  her 
chair,  and  prepared  to  listen. 

Millicent  gave  an  embarrassed  laugh. 

"I  don't  know  just  how  to  say  it  so  that  it  will  not 
sound  stupid  and  pretentious;  but  I  do  not  wish  to 
live  just  for  the  pleasure  I  can  get  out  of  life.  I  have 
no  father  or  mother,  no  brothers  or  sisters  —  no  obli 
gations  whatever,  and  like  you  I  am  rich.  There  is 
no  one  around  me  who  needs  my  help,  and  there  is  a 
craving  in  me  to  do  something  for  the  world." 

"Americans  are  very  altruistic,  are  they  not?" 
Elpis  observed  in  a  ruminating  voice.  "They  want 
to  get  out  and  uplift  the  whole  world.  Is  it  because 
you  have  so  much  yourselves  —  or  because  you  are 
bored?" 

Millicent  frowned.  She  was  not  used  to  such  blunt 


ELPIS  ASKS  FOR  A  SIGN  125 

questions.  They  did  not  seem  to  her  quite  ladylike; 
but  Elpis  being  a  lady  could  often  dispense  with  being 
ladylike. 

"Suppose,  now  that  you  have  told  me  a  little,"  the 
Greek  girl  continued,  "y°u  tell  me  more." 

"It  is  like  this,"  Millicent  said  vehemently.  "I 
feel  that  we  in  America  have  so  much  light,  so  much 
freedom,  that  I  should  like  to  bring  a  little  of  it  to 
those  who  have  none." 

Elpis  again  surveyed  her  friend  with  a  tender  and 
whimsical  smile. 

"  You  wish,  then,  to  help  the  Turkish  women?" 

"I  do." 

"Why?" 

"Because  they  need  it." 

"They  haven't  asked  for  it,  have  they?"  Elpis 
suggested  mildly. 

"How  can  they  ask  for  what  they  do  not  know 
even  exists?" 

"And  you  wish  to  see  a  typical  Turkish  household 
in  order  to  learn  how  to  set  about  bringing  the  light 
of  America  to  them?" 

"Yes." 

:'You  are  funny  —  but  I  like  you.  It  is  a  great 
thing  to  have  a  dream  which  embraces  humanity. 
It  enlarges  one's  mind,  one's  soul.  May  I  ask  just 
what  your  plans  are?" 

"Well— er  —  I  don't  know  exactly,"   Millicent 


126         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

stammered.  "In  America  I  had  no  idea  how  difficult 
it  would  be." 

"How  do  you  feel  toward  the  Turks  in  general?" 

"Of  course  I  think  they  are  a  very  inferior  race." 

"Did  Orkhan  Effendi  strike  you  as  an  inferior 
person?" 

"N-o,  but  he  must  be  an  exception.  One  cannot 
judge  a  race  from  an  exception." 

Elpis  pondered  for  a  minute. 

"I  don't  know  that  I  should  call  Orkhan  Effendi 
such  a  great  exception.  Good-looking,  courteous, 
chivalrous,  a  dreamer,  —  all  these  qualities  are  com 
monly  found  among  the  Turks.  But  just  rouse  him, 
and  you  will  find  the  barbarian  in  him  as  well  as  in 
the  rest  of  them.  You  wish  to  bring  the  light  of  Amer 
ica  to  a  race  which  for  a  thousand  years  has  been  con 
tent  to  live  in  its  own  way." 

"Perhaps  that  was  because  they  did  not  know  any 
thing  better." 

"H'm!  Well,  there  is  no  harm  in  your  trying.  I 
will  take  you,  in  a  day  or  two,  to  a  regular,  old- 
fashioned  Turkish  household.  Meanwhile  you  might 
read  the  history  of  Turkey,  to  let  the  past  help  you 
with  the  future.  I  will  lend  you  one." 

The  Greek  girl  rose  and  went  over  to  the  American. 
She  threw  one  arm  around  her  shoulders,  and  leaning 
over,  kissed  her. 

"You  see,  I  judged  you  rightly  on  the  steamer. 


ELPIS  ASKS  FOR  A   SIGN  127 

I  knew  that  you  were  not  only  a  pretty  girl.  But  now 
you  must  go  upstairs  and  get  ready  for  luncheon. 
Niko  will  probably  bring  some  one  with  him." 

"More  suitors?" 

Elpis  smiled. 

"Why  don't  you  tell  your  brother  at  once  that  you 
have  no  intention  of  marrying?  " 

"What?  Tell  my  brother  that  I  am  going  to  be  an 
old  maid?"  Elpis  threw  her  arms  heavenward  in 
despair.  "It  would  kill  him.  In  a  family  like  ours, 
renowned  for  the  beauty  of  its  women  —  to  have  an 
old  maid !  You  don't  know  how  the  Greeks  feel  about 
such  a  calamity.  They  call  her  'a  letter  without  an 
address/  and  'unclaimed  at  the  post-office.'  The 
average  Greek  girl  would  rather  marry  anybody  than 
remain  an  old  maid." 

Millicent  sprang  to  her  feet,  laughing. 

"Au  revoir,  my  unclaimed  letter.   I  go  to  dress." 

Elpis  did  not  go  in  with  her  guest.  She  lingered  by 
the  balustrade  of  the  terrace,  looking  up  to  where  we 
are  told  the  Supreme  Being  holds  his  court. 

"Ah,  God,"  she  murmured,  "why  do  you  make  wo 
men  so  frail,  and  then  give  them  such  big  dreams?  " 

She  remained,  as  if  waiting  for  an  answer.  Thus  had 
Constantine  the  Great,  Emperor  of  Constantinople, 
once  in  perplexity  asked  a  question  of  his  Maker, 
and  the  legend  has  it  that  a  cross  appeared  in  the 
heavens,  and  the  words  "Under  this  be  victorious." 


128         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

Elpis  remembered  the  legend.  Unconsciously  she 
joined  her  hands  together,  and,  with  upturned  face, 
waited.  So  long  and  intently  did  she  stand  gazing  into 
the  blue  that  her  eyes  smarted;  but  no  sign  appeared. 
Finally  the  tension  of  her  posture  relaxed,  and,  like 
another  Emperor  of  Constantinople,  Julian  the 
Apostate,  she  shook  her  finger  at  the  heavenly  dome. 
No  such  blasphemy  as  his  passed  her  lips,  however. 
She  only  said,  half -humorously,  half -bitterly :  — 

"Ah,  God,  you  have  always  been  more  generous  to 
men  than  to  women." 

Reluctantly  she  walked  toward  the  door  of  the  house. 
As  she  was  about  to  enter  the  long  French  window, 
she  turned  and  looked  up  into  the  sky,  as  if  hoping 
against  hope.  But  the  space  above  remained  serenely 
blue.  No  sign  appeared  to  mar  its  beauty. 

For  a  long  minute  she  stood  waiting.  Then  she  mur 
mured  two  lines  from  her  favorite  poet,  Paraschos:  — 

"  The  hosannas  of  Paradise 
Drown  the  cries  of  the  Earth." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

IN  THE  LIGHT   OP  ISLAM 

A  RE  you  ready?" 
Millicent  stood  on  the  threshold  of  Elpis's 
room,  fastening  the  last  button  of  her  gloves. 

"I  shall  be  in  a  minute." 

Elpis  was  putting  a  thick  veil  over  her  hat.  Then 
she  opened  a  drawer  and  took  out  a  short-barreled  re 
volver.  She  twirled  its  cylinder,  to  make  sure  it  was 
in  working  order,  and  put  it  into  her  handbag. 

:' You  are  not  going  to  take  that  revolver  with  you?" 
Millicent  asked  in  surprise. 

"  I  always  do  when  I  go  alone  to  Stamboul.  We  shall 
pass  through  some  lonely  streets.  That  is  why  I  asked 
you  to  wear  a  thick  veil  and  a  loose  cloak.  It  is  just 
as  well  to  show  as  little  of  yourself  as  possible  to  the 
Turks.  They  have  not  forgotten  the  time  when  any 
pretty  woman  was  theirs  — if  they  could  get  her.  I 
am  ready  now." 

The  caique  was  waiting  for  them  at  the  landing, 
and  the  two  girls  took  their  places  on  the  cushions  in 
the  stern.  The  boat  glided  out  into  the  Bosphorus 
under  the  rhythmic  strokes  of  the  three  oarsmen.  It 
was  the  hour  of  the  day  when  wise  people  stayed  at 
home  in  the  cool  shade  of  their  houses;  but  Elpis 


130         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

wished  to  return  from  Stamboul  before  nightfall,  and 
the  awning  over  the  boat  protected  them  in  a  measure 
from  the  heat  of  the  sun. 

It  was  too  hot  to  talk,  and  the  wxmdrous  shores  — 
Asia  on  one  side  and  Europe  on  the  other  —  slipped 
past  them  in  silence. 

When  they  reached  the  landing  at  Stamboul,  the 
chief  oarsman  asked  Elpis  if  he  were  not  to  accom 
pany  her  to  her  destination. 

"Not  to-day,"  she  answered.  "We  are  two,  and  we 
shall  be  back  before  sunset." 

The  man's  attitude  showed  his  disapproval  of  this, 
but  he  did  not  venture  to  dispute  the  point  with  his 
mistress. 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  two  girls  were  lost  in  a 
labyrinth  of  narrow,  crooked,  ill-paved  streets.  The 
houses  on  either  side  were  of  unpainted  wood,  turned 
black  by  time,  and  every  window  was  protected  by  a 
lattice. 

"What  curious  architecture,"  Millicent  exclaimed. 

"Architecture!"  Elpis  cried,  scant  respect  in  her 
voice;  "I  don't  see  any.  They  look  to  me  as  if  they 
had  sprouted  like  toadstools." 

There  was,  indeed,  a  haphazard  air  about  them  all, 
as  if  the  original  boxlike  houses  had  thrown  out  bay 
windows  and  covered  balconies  under  the  influence  of 
sun  and  rain,  rather  than  because  of  man's  intention. 

"Yes, they  do;  but  they  are  fascinating, and  so  em- 


IN  THE  LIGHT  OF  ISLAM  131 

blematic  of  their  jumbled-up,  retarded  moral  growth. 
And  the  windows !  See  how  they  turn  their  poor  blind 
eyes  to  the  world — and  do  not  wish  to  see  what  West 
ern  civilization  is  accomplishing." 

Elpis  smiled,  as  she  often  did  at  Millicent's  ideas. 

"They  can  see  more  with  their  poor  blind  eyes  than 
you  might  suppose.  And  let  us  walk  in  the  middle  of 
the  street,  not  on  the  sidewalk.  You  never  can  tell  what 
may  fall  on  your  head.  Besides  which  I  always  mis 
trust  doors,  which  can  open  softly,  and  as  softly  close." 

They  went  on  for  some  two  miles  without  meeting 
any  living  thing  except  a  few  dogs  and  two  cats. 
They  wound  in  and  out  of  a  web  of  streets,  each  pre 
senting  its  own  aspect,  yet  all  very  much  alike.  Now 
and  then  the  silence  was  broken  by  a  laugh,  sounding 
uncanny  in  the  deserted  place. 

At  length  an  open  space  lay  before  them. 

"This  is  a  typical  Turkish  square,"  Elpis  said. 
"Here  is  the  fountain,  built  by  some  pious  lady,  where 
animals  and  men  may  drink,  and  where  the  faithful 
may  wash  before  prayer.  If  it  were  sunset,  you  would 
find  it  filled  with  bathers.  Under  that  huge  plantain 
tree  is  the  coffee-house.  Your  Turk  pays  his  penny 
there,  sips  his  coffee,  and  sits  for  hours  thinking  — 
not  one  thought.  And  that  little  white  building  with 
the  minaret  on  top  is  the  parish  dzami.  The  Turkish 
male  prays  there,  and  in  it,  as  a  boy,  he  receives  the 
very  little  education  he  possesses." 


132         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

At  this  hour,  however,  the  square  was  utterly  de 
serted,  except  for  the  cafedji,  stretched  across  three 
little  stools,  asleep,  his  red  handkerchief  covering  his 
face. 

From  the  hot  square  they  plunged  into  more  cool, 
silent  streets.  The  houses  were  now  larger,  and  there 
were  gardens  attached  to  them.  These  could  not  be 
seen,  being  hidden  behind  high  walls  bristling  with 
broken  glass;  but  one  could  divine  them  gardens  be 
cause  fig-trees  rose  high  above  the  walls,  and  the 
scent  of  flowers  filled  the  air. 

From  one  of  them  a  song  rose  into  the  dead  silence. 
At  its  conclusion  there  was  hand-clapping,  and  rippling, 
melodious  laughter. 

"Can  that  be  a  girls'  school?"  Millicent  asked. 

"What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"Because  the  laughter  is  so  fresh  and  childish." 

"No,  they  are  Turkish  women  laughing,  and 
their  laughter  is  childish  because  the  great  majority 
of  them  are  like  little  children.  They  have  the 
ideas,  the  aspirations,  and  the  vanities  of  child 
hood." 

They  lingered  a  minute,  but  nothing  further  came 
from  the  hidden  garden.  After  this  bit  of  life,  the 
sound  of  their  own  footsteps  became  oppressive  to 
Millicent. 

"I  certainly  hope  I  shan't  lose  you,  Elpis;  for  never 
in  the  world  could  I  find  my  way." 


IN  THE  LIGHT  OF  ISLAM  133 

"I  shall  take  care  that  you  don't  lose  me;  but  now 
we  are  at  my  friend's  house." 

They  stopped  before  a  large  door,  with  two  iron 
knockers.  Elpis  raised  one  of  these  and  rapped  several 
times.  The  door  opened,  and  they  entered  a  vast, 
cement-floored  hall,  solely  lighted  by  a  window  on 
the  stairs,  opposite  the  door. 

Millicent  looked  about  her  with  lively  curiosity. 

"Who  let  us  in?  There  is  no  one  here,"  she  whis 
pered. 

The  Greek  pointed  to  a  slender  rope  coming  through 
a  hole  in  the  ceiling,  its  end  fastened  to  the  latch. 

"They  pulled  it  from  upstairs,  after  they  had  well 
examined  who  we  were.  Some  one  is  coming  now." 

There  sounded  rapid  footsteps  on  the  stairs,  and  a 
tall  young  woman  in  flowing  robes  ran  down  to  meet 
them.  Her  hair  was  tied  up  in  a  pink  veil,  and  huge 
earrings  dangled  from  her  ears.  She  salaamed  to  the 
floor,  and  conducted  them  upstairs  to  a  hall  as  large 
as  the  lower  one,  but  lighted  with  several  latticed  win 
dows  reaching  to  the  ceiling.  A  long  settee  was  under 
the  windows,  and,  judging  from  the  disarray  of  pillows 
and  coverlets,  the  hall  had  been  well  peopled  before 
the  knock  at  the  door  had  induced  the  flight  of  its 
occupants. 

"The  house  must  be  full  of  guests,  since  they  are 
even  using  this  hall,"  Elpis  remarked. 

"But  why  did  they  all  run  away ? " 


134         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"It  is  n't  good  form  for  them  to  meet  us  before 
we  have  had  time  to  wash  and  fix  ourselves  up 
a  bit." 

They  were  conducted  to  a  smaller  room,  where 
another  slave  was  waiting  to  assist  them  in  taking  off 
their  wraps,  and  brought  them  basins  of  water  and 
towels.  Refreshed,  they  were  taken  to  an  immense 
room  giving  on  the  garden  behind,  in  which  were 
perhaps  thirty  women.  Some  were  on  the  settee, 
some  sat  cross-legged  on  rugs,  and  others  were 
stretched  full-length  on  the  floor. 

All  rose  at  the  entrance  of  the  two  Occidentals, 
and  it  was  like  a  field  of  flowers  fluttering  to  life, 
so  many  perfumes  were  commingled,  so  brilliantly 
varied  were  the  colors  of  their  gowns.  In  spite  of  its 
ten  windows  there  was  only  a  subdued  light  in  the 
room,  the  blinds  all  being  closed,  though  the  slats 
were  turned. 

Elpis  was  kissed  by  several  of  the  women,  and  then 
she  presented  Millicent  to  them.  They  clustered  about 
the  fair  young  American  with  such  frank  looks  of  ad 
miration  that  Millicent  felt  the  blood  rising  to  her 
cheeks. 

A  flood  of  unintelligible  remarks  followed.  Elpis 
translated :  — 

"They  want  you  to  take  down  your  hair,  in  order 
that  they  'may  see  its  gold  at  full  length." 

""For  heaven's  sake!"  Millicent  exclaimed.     "Is 


IN  THE  LIGHT  OF  ISLAM  135 

that  the  way  they  do?"  Then,  noticing  the  quizzical 
smile  on  the  Greek's  lips:  "Well,  I  hope  it  will  stop 
there." 

"I'm  not  at  all  sure  it  will.  They  are  very  natural. 
Are  you  going  to  take  down  your  hair?" 

Still  Millicent  hesitated;  but  the  Turkish  women 
stood  around  her,  expectant  as  children,  and  she  did 
as  she  had  been  asked.  Then  every  one  had  to  touch 
the  Americana's  gold,  even  the  half-dozen  children 
present,  some  of  wThom  wore  only  a  chemise,  and  some 
nothing  at  all. 

Slaves  began  to  bring  in  an  apparently  endless 
supply  of  sherbets  and  candy. 

When  the  Turkish  women  had  fingered  her  dress  and 
stared  their  fill,  they  began  to  ask  questions  through 
Elpis. 

How  old  was  the  Americana? 

She  was  twenty-three. 

How  many  children  did  she  have? 

Being  told  that  she  was  not  yet  married,  their  faces 
unreservedly  expressed  the  pity  and  horror  they  felt 
for  her. 

Was  she  not  considered  pretty  in  her  own  country  ? 
Did  not  any  man  wish  to  marry  her? 

Elpis  took  it  on  herself  to  say  that  her  friend  was 
considered  very  pretty  in  America,  but  that  she  had 
only  just  finished  her  studies. 

"Just  finished  studying  —  and  twenty-three  years 


136        IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

old ! "  they  repeated  to  one  another.  Was  she,  then, 
very  stupid? 

No,  but  in  America  it  was  considered  necessary  for 
girls  to  go  to  school  longer  than  in  Turkey. 

One  tall,  stately  beauty,  looking  several  years 
older  than  Millicent,  announced:  — 

"I  am  only  twenty-two;  but  I  have  been  married 
seven  years  and  have  three  children  —  two  of  them 
boys,"  she  ended  proudly. 

In  a  rather  bewildering  fashion  the  tables  were  be 
ing  turned  on  Millicent.  She  was  treated  quite  as  if 
she  were  the  one  to  be  made  to  see  the  error  of  her 
ways.  With  an  effort  she  pulled  herself  together  and 
resolved  to  do  some  questioning  in  her  turn.  Perhaps 
she  might  implant  a  seed  of  divine  discontent  in  this 
gay  and  careless  household. 

What  were  their  occupations?  Were  they  not  bored 
with  doing  nothing  but  lying  about  and  drinking 
sherbets? 

They  opened  their  large  black  eyes  —  rendered 
larger  by  penciling  —  at  these  questions. 

Bored!  Why  should  they  be  bored?  They  had 
bathing;  and  lovely  picnics  in  the  cemeteries;  and 
the  sunsets  to  watch  every  evening;  and  ever  so 
many  visits  to  exchange.  Besides,  they  spent  a  great 
deal  of  time  buying  costly  fabrics  and  jewelry  and 
slaves. 

One  of  the  more  energetic  went  from  the  room, 


IN  THE  LIGHT  OF  ISLAM  137 

and  returned,  followed  by  three  girls  of  thirteen, 
carrying  clothes  and  jewelry. 

"These,"  she  announced  triumphantly,  "are  some 
of  my  recent  purchases,  —  these  three  slaves,  and 
all  that  they  are  carrying!" 

But  did  they  not  wish  to  go  out  into  the  world 
—  to  be  a  part  of  it  —  to  be  doing  something  for 
it? 

Was  she  crazy?  they  asked  of  Elpis.  What  did 
she  mean  by  being  a  part  of  the  world?  They  were  a 
part  of  the  world,  and  did  a  great  deal  for  it.  They  were 
giving  men  to  the  world  to  fight  for  the  glory  of  Islam. 
It  was  the  Americana  who  was  doing  nothing  for  the 
world.  Where  was  the  man  she  should  be  making 
happy?  Where  were  the  boys  she  ought  to  be  bring 
ing  up? 

The  Greek  girl  translated,  with  mischievous  enjoy 
ment  of  the  situation ;  and  her  friend  was  not  entirely 
sorry  when  the  entrance  of  singers  and  dancers  put  a 
stop  to  her  efforts  toward  implanting  the  seed  of  dis 
content  in  these  darkened  souls. 

After  this  entertainment  was  at  an  end,  and  more 
sherbets  had  been  brought  in,  the  two  Christians  took 
their  departure.  The  streets  were  now  less  deserted, 
but  Millicent  took  little  interest  in  their  sights.  She 
felt  cast  down  by  her  experiences  of  the  afternoon. 
Her  thoughts  went  to  Orkhan  Effendi.  His  childhood 
must  have  been  passed  amid  such  surroundings. 


138         IN   THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

What  would  not  their  effect  be  on  any  one's  charac 
ter? 

Elpis  presently  broke  in  on  her  discouraged  medi 
tations. 

"Well,  my  reformer,  where  will  you  begin?  There 
were,  as  you  saw,  about  thirty  women  there,  and  only 
one  of  them  wras  discontented  with  her  lot." 

"Was  that  the  pretty  one  I  saw  you  talking  with 
while  the  dancing  was  going  on?" 

"Yes." 

"Why  did  you  not  let  me  talk  to  her?  She  might 
have  had  some  sympathy  with  my  hopes." 

"Unfortunately  her  discontent  is  not  divine  —  it  is 
very  human.  She  is  to  be  married  in  ten  days,  and 
would  be  radiantly  happy  except  that  the  foolish 
creature  has  happened  to  fall  in  love  with  some  man 
she  saw  passing  under  her  window.  So  she  thinks  of 
suicide,  or  of  running  off  to  the  man  —  whose  name 
she  barely  knows,  and  who  would  very  likely  be  much 
embarrassed  to  know  what  to  do  with  her." 

"You  don't  seem  very  sorry  for  her,  Elpis." 

The  Greek  girl  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"Love  is  only  one's  own  little  affair.  We  make  as 
much  fuss  over  it  as  if  the  fate  of  nations  depended 
on  it." 

It  had  grown  considerably  cooler.  From  behind 
their  lattices  women  wrere  talking  to  each  other  across 
the  street.  The  two  girls  met  several  men,  and  once  a 


IN  THE  LIGHT  OF  ISLAM  139 

soldier.  Elpis  put  her  hand  on  Millicent's  arm  and 
guided  her  away  from  him.  "It  is  just  as  well  not  to 
give  him  the  chance  to  touch  you,"  she  whispered. 

Millicent,  who  had  never  moved  aside  from  a  sober 
man  in  her  life,  glanced  back  after  him  with  interest. 

"They  have  a  terrible  reputation,  have  n't  they?" 

"And  with  justice.  Although  very  courteous,  even 
chivalrous  to  women,  it  is  these  same  Turkish  officers 
who  promise  women  to  their  soldiers  during  war.  If 
you  will  read  the  history  of  Greece,  you  will  find  that 
no  mercy  was  ever  shown  to  women  by  them.  That  is 
why  the  history  of  our  war  for  independence  is  full  of 
stories  of  women  with  their  little  ones  jumping  off  the 
cliffs  into  the  sea,  or  blowing  up  their  houses,  when 
the  Turkish  armies  defeated  our  men." 

It  all  seemed  to  Millicent  only  the  more  reason  why 
Turkey  should  be  given  the  chance  to  rise  by  the  help 
of  Western  civilization.  Her  hopes  rebounded  from 
their  depression  of  the  early  afternoon,  and  again  she 
talked  of  the  great  things  that  might  be  effected  if 
only  the  training  of  the  Turks  could  be  changed. 

Elpis  listened  to  her  with  friendliness,  if  not  with 
sympathy.  At  length  she  said :  — 

"I  don't  wish  to  throw  cold  water  on  your  hopes, 
but  remember  that  the  Turks  have  had  a  Western 
influence  —  and  have  never  been  touched  by  it. 
Every  other  nation  that  conquered  Greece  was  in 
turn  conquered  by  her  civilization,  her  language,  her 


140         IN   THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

literature.  The  Turks  alone  have  lived  side  by  side 
with  us  for  over  four  hundred  years  without  even 
learning  that  the  Greek  civilization  is  worth  studying. 
You  may  say  that  at  the  time  when  the  Turks  con 
quered  us,  we  were  a  finished  race,  and  so  we  were. 
But  it  was  the  Greeks  fleeing  from  Turkey  who 
brought  about  the  European  Renaissance.  Why  have 
the  great  majority,  who  remained  among  the  Turks, 
been  unable  to  do  anything  for  them?  Ah,  my  dear 
Millicent,  if  there  is  one  prophet  for  us  and  another 
for  them,  it  is  because  we  cannot  have  the  same  one. 
The  Turks  are  essentially  Asiatic  —  and  Asiatics  and 
Europeans  have  never  commingled." 


CHAPTER  XX 

KISMET ! 

ELPIS,  all  in  white,  stood  in  the  doorway. 
"This  morning  I  must  leave  you,  my  golden 
lily.   I  am  going  out  for  a  walk." 

"Can't  I  come  too?"  Millicent  asked. 

Elpis  shook  her  head. 

"No,  I  am  going  to  visit  my  work-people.    You 
did  n't  know  I  was  a  manufacturer,  did  you?  " 

"What  do  you  manufacture?" 

"A  diversity  of  things  —  as  the  economists  recom 
mend." 

"And  where  do  you  sell  them?" 

"  Here ! "  Elpis  pointed  to  herself.  "  I  am  consumer 
also.  It  simplifies  matters." 

Seeing   Millicent 's   puzzled   expression,    she   ex 
plained:  - 

"I  try  to  find  out  what  each  of  my  poor  people 
can  do  best.  It  is  quite  a  task;  so  many  of  them  only 
seem  able  to  do  worst;  but  between  them  they 
manage  to  clothe  me  from  head  to  foot  —  even 
these!"  She  thrust  forth  a  dainty  silk-stockinged 
foot. 

"Why,  you  are  a  philanthropist,  after  all,"  Milli 
cent  cried,  with  sudden  joy  at  finding  this  trait  in  her 


142         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

friend,  whose  cynical  light-heartedness  had  been 
something  of  a  trial  to  her. 

"Oh,  dear,  no!  You  are  a  philanthropist:  you  wish 
to  elevate  the  whole  world.  I  have  no  such  Atlas 
aspirations.  I  only  manage  to  indulge  my  passion  for 
hand-made  things,  while  helping  a  few  poor  people." 

"Elpis,  you  must  take  me  with  you.  I  consider  the 
Arts  and  Crafts  movement  one  of  the  most  hopeful 
signs  of  the  times.  I  should  so  much  like  to  know  how 
you  do  it  in  this  country." 

The  Greek  girl  only  laughed,  with  a  mocking 
cadence  in  her  voice. 

"Arts  and  Crafts,"  she  repeated  innocently,  — 
"what  are  they?  Tell  me  about  them  sometime.  But 
now  I  must  go,  and  you  cannot  come  with  me.  My 
poor  might  feel  that  they  were  being  exhibited,  and 
they  might  n't  like  it.  I  have  to  be  as  careful  of  their 
feelings  as  I  am  of  their  health.  That  keeps  me  pretty 
busy  sometimes;  but  I  don't  mind  it.  It  keeps  my 
nursing  in  practice." 

"In  practice  for  what?" 

"For  the  time  when  Greece  shall  need  the  services 
of  every  woman,  as  well  as  of  every  man,  against  the 
Turks,"  Elpis  replied,  a  vibrant  note  of  passion  in  her 
voice.  :<You  must  amuse  yourself  as  best  you  can. 
You  may  find  this  history  of  Turkey  interesting." 

Elpis  went  into  the  hall  and  took  a  large  leghorn 
hat  from  the  rack.  She  tied  it  on  with  a  long  red  veil. 


KISMET  143 

A  white  parasol  completed  the  pleasing  picture  she 
presented  as  she  sauntered  away  from  the  house,  with 
a  wave  of  her  hand  to  Millicent. 

Left  alone,  the  American  girl  picked  up  the  history, 
and  idly  turned  over  the  leaves.  A  sentence  attracted 
her  attention,  and  she  began  to  read.  She  knew  as 
little  of  Turkish  history  as  most  Americans.  Gradu 
ally  she  became  interested,  then  absorbed.  The  life  of 
an  unknown  race  was  revealed  to  her,  a  race  strong 
with  the  strength  of  primitive  people,  generous  and 
cruel,  with  the  generosity  and  cruelty  of  youth. 

So  utterly  lost  was  she  to  her  surroundings  that  she 
did  not  hear  the  approach  of  a  man,  who  came  and 
stood  in  the  doorway  and  stared  at  her  as  if  he  could 
never  gaze  his  fill.  When  at  length  she  chanced  to 
glance  up,  her  eyes  dilated  with  fear,  before  she  broke 
into  a  little  nervous  laugh. 

"Oh!  is  it  you,  Orkhan  Effendi?  I  was  so  lost  in 
this  history  of  your  race  that  I  thought  it  was  the 
apparition  of  your  own  ancestor,  Othman,  who  stood 
before  me." 

The  Turk  did  not  reply.  He  only  continued  to  look 
down  upon  her  with  fixed  concentration.  His  silence 
and  his  steady  regard  made  her  nervous. 

"I  am  sorry  you  could  not  accept  my  uncle's  in 
vitation  to  luncheon."  She  spoke  to  be  saying  some 
thing. 

Then  for  half  a  minute  no  word  was  uttered.    In 


144         IN   THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

the  gaze  of  the  Turk  there  was  a  mesmeric  force.  She 
could  not  take  her  eyes  from  his.  She  felt  that  she 
must  break  the  spell  that  he  was  casting  over  her. 

Her  anger  was  roused.  After  all,  he  was  only  a  man. 
What  was  there  in  a  man  to  be  afraid  of? 

With  a  little  stamp  of  the  foot,  she  demanded :  — 

"Why  do  you  look  at  me  like  that?  Why  do  you 
not  speak?" 

The  Turk  slowly  waved  his  hand,  his  eyes  never 
leaving  hers,  and  said,  as  if  compelled  rather  than 
wishing  to  utter  the  words:  - 

"When  I  first  met  you  on  the  steamer,  I  looked 
upon  you  only  as  a  perfect  work  of  Allah.  I  allowed 
my  soul  to  drink  at  the  fountain  of  your  beauty  —  to 
gaze  upon  you  as  if  you  had  been  a  star,  or  some 
heavenly  vision.  It  was  enough.  I  longed  for  nothing 
more.  Then  Fate  decreed  that  we  should  speak.  I 
touched  your  hand.  You  became  for  me  a  woman. 
Kismet!" 

He  stopped,  and  Millicent  found  herself  silent  be 
fore  this  strange  declaration  —  silent,  but  with  an 
unexpected  emotion  surging  through  her  veins.  She 
cast  down  her  eyes;  and  presently  he  went  on:  — 

"Even  then  I  opposed  my  will  against  that  of 
Allah.  I  did  not  mean  to  see  you  again;  I  did  not 
wish  the  love  of  a  woman  to  come  into  my  life.  Yet  I 
was  no  more  the  man  I  had  been.  I  was  no  longer  free. 
The  image  of  your  face  was  imprinted  on  my  soul.  I 


KISMET  145 

could  not  forget  you.  Awake  or  asleep,  I  had  to  think 
of  you  —  and  the  thought  of  you  set  my  blood  on  fire. 
To-day  I  felt  that  I  must  come  to  this  house.  I  did 
not  know  that  you  were  here  —  I  had  not  been  here 
for  a  very  long  time  —  but  I  was  drawn  by  an  irresist 
ible  force." 

His  eyes  caressed  her  as  he  spoke,  and  Millicent 
thrilled  with  an  emotion  as  intoxicating  as  it  was 
foreign  to  her.  Yet  she  tried  not  to  look  at  him ;  tried 
to  summon  her  maidenly  pride  to  her  aid ;  but  his  eyes 
held  hers,  and  seemed  to  draw  her  to  him.  Only  by  a 
superhuman  effort  did  she  keep  herself  from  going  to 
him. 

"Now  I  know  that  a  man's  fate  is  written  on  his 
forehead,  and  that  to  attempt  to  evade  kismet  is  the 
act  of  a  madman  trying  to  force  back  the  current  of  a 
river.  What  we  ourselves  will  matters  nothing.  And 
when  your  eyes  meet  mine,  Paradise  opens  before  me." 

He  smiled,  and  held  out  his  arms  to  her. 

Was  this  Millicent  Grey  who  was  enfolded  in  them ; 
who  gave  herself  to  this  mysterious  force  with  never 
an  effort  at  escape?  He  bent  his  head,  and  pressed 
his  lips  on  hers.  She  closed  her  eyes,  the  exquisiteness 
of  the  moment  the  only  feeling  her  being  had  room 
for. 

And  then,  in  the  midst  of  her  surrender,  she  heard 

—  as  distinctly  as  if  the  Greek  girl  had  been  present 

—  the  voice  of  Elpis  saying :  — 


146         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"Beware  of  Millicent  when  she  awakes." 

She  tore  herself  from  Orkhan's  arms,  trembling, 
ashamed.  Was  she  really  Millicent  Grey,  and  that 
man  a  Turk? 

He  smiled  at  her  rebellion,  and  made  a  movement 
as  if  to  take  her  again  in  his  arms. 

"No!"  she  cried. 

"But  I  love  you,  Millicent.  I  want  you  for  mine." 

"No!  No!"  she  cried  again.  "I  don't  know  how 
I--I- 

" Millicent,  I  love  you ! "  he  repeated,  as  if  that  were 
all-sufficient.  "And  you  have  told  me  in  more  con 
vincing  language  than  words  that  you  love  me,  too. 
What  does  it  matter  how  far  apart  we  started,  if  now 
at  last  we  have  come  together?" 

At  her  gesture  of  dissent,  he  continued  in  wonder 
ing  tones : - 

"Ah!  do  you  not  know  it?  Did  you  not  hear  your 
heart  call  for  mine,  as  I  held  you  in  my  arms?  Did 
you  not  learn  from  my  embrace  that  you  belonged  to 
me?  Did  not  every  atom  of  existence  in  you  cry  out 
for  the  life  I  can  give  you?" 

She  put  forth  her  hand  to  stop  his  speaking. 

"Orkhan  Effendi,  do  not  say  any  more.  Can  you 
not  see  the  gulf  which  separates  us?" 

''You  mean  that  you  and  I  belong  to  different 
races,  and  have  different  beliefs?" 

"Yes!  Yes!  Everything!" 


KISMET  147 

"But  those  are  external  things  that  do  not  matter. 
And  the  wife  becomes  what  her  husband  is.  His  life  is 
hers.  What  is  anything  else  compared  to  the  love  we 
have  for  each  other?  You  will  be  my  wife,  and  you 
will  be  happy." 

It  was  not  his  argument,  it  was  his  intense  person 
ality,  his  charm,  his  appeal  to  what  was  primitive 
and  human  in  her  which  set  her  blood  on  fire.  She 
was  conscious  that  every  atom  of  her  being,  except 
only  her  mind  and  reasoning  power,  called  her  to  this 
man  --  Turk  though  he  was. 

With  a  last  desperate  endeavor,  she  faced  him,  and 
in  a  voice  that  was  almost  steady  said :  - 

"Orkhan  Effendi,  you  will  never  understand.  We 
belong  to  different  worlds.  Our  men  look  upon  women 
differently  from  the  way  you  do.  The  women  of 
America  are  not  degraded  as  the  women  of  Turkey— 

"Degraded!"  he  broke  in,  surprise  and  pain  in  his 
voice.  "How  can  my  love  degrade  you?  Love  is  the 
only  divine  gift  Allah  has  given  to  mortals  in  this  ex 
istence.  Do  you  not  feel  our  love  to  be  the  tenderest 
and  sweetest  thing  you  have  ever  known?" 

"Orkhan  Effendi,"  the  girl  implored,  almost  yield 
ing  again  to  his  love,  "I  want  you  to  go  away  — 
please  do!" 

"I  will  go,  my  beloved;  but  you  will  wish  me  back 
again.  You  will  wish  me  to  return  and  never  to  leave 
you.  And  when  you  send  for  me,  I  will  come,  because 


148         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

your  command,  now,  is  the  one  I  obey.  Before  you 
all  must  wait  —  even  the  work  of  my  life.  I  love  you, 
Millicent,  I  love  you!" 

His  voice,  his  eyes  spoke  to  her  of  a  human  passion 
with  an  appeal  that  even  her  reason  could  not  under 
stand. 

She  only  had  strength  to  point  to  the  door,  and  to 
stammer:  — 

"I  —  I  shall  —  never  —  send  for  you." 

He  made  her  a  low  temena,  his  fingers  touching  the 
ground,  the  knee,  the  heart,  and  his  lips. 

"Wherever  I  am,  and  at  whatever  hour  you  send 
for  me,  I  shall  obey,  my  sultana." 

His  certainty  that  she  would  send  for  him  roused  a 
certain  combative  strength  in  her.  She  drew  herself 
up,  and  became  again  a  woman  of  her  own  race,  with 
strong  mentality  and  senses  now  subservient  —  a 
woman  whose  existence  he  hardly  imagined,  he  the 
man  of  earthly  love. 

Yet  something  of  it  he  felt;  and  she  appeared  to  him 
taller,  straighter,  and  more  queenly  —  a  woman  in 
finitely  to  be  desired.  Although  what  she  stood  for 
was  a  closed  book  to  Orkhan,  vaguely  he  felt  that 
there  was  that  in  her  which  was  strongly  resisting 
him,  a  force  greater  than  the  difference  of  race  and 
religion.  He  could  not  guess  that  it  was  the  force  of 
ideals  born  from  that  new  race  and  religion.  The 
woman  who  now  stood  before  him  puzzled  and  baffled 


KISMET  149 

him;  yet  he  knew  there  was  in  her  the  other  woman 
who  loved  him  and  who  would  answer  to  his  call. 

"Orkhan  Effendi,  will  you  go?" 

He  saluted,  as  gracefully  as  before. 

"I  go,  since  you  ask  me.  And  I  shall  come  when 
you  send  for  me.  I  am  now  yours." 

He  left  her  with  dignity.  He  went  away,  not  as  a 
man  who  has  been  requested  to  do  so,  but  as  a  ruler  of 
whom  a  favor  has  been  sought,  and  who  graciously 
confers  it. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE   REFLECTION   IN   THE  MIRROR 

AS  soon  as  Orkhan  Effendi  had  gone,  Millicent 
ran  up  to  her  room  and  shut  the  door.  She  tried 
to  lock  it,  but  the  key  was  missing.  She  dared  not 
trust  herself  before  the  eyes  of  even  a  chance  servant. 
She  had  lost  her  poise:  her  mental  equilibrium  was 
completely  upset.  To  think  that  she,  Millicent 
Grey,  of  Boston,  should  have  permitted  herself  to  be 
swept  off  her  feet  by  this  handsome  Turk  —  should 
have  let  him  hold  her  in  his  arms  —  should  even  yet 
thrill  to  the  uttermost  fibre  of  her  being  by  the  re 
membrance  of  his  caresses.  She  could  not  understand 
herself. 

Could  it  be  true,  as  Elpis  had  said,  that  there 
existed  in  every  person  a  primitive  being,  with  primi 
tive  demands,  and  that  when  it  awakened  it  was 
stronger  than  the  cultivated  being  which  ordinarily 
ruled  according  to  the  code  of  civilization  and  mor 
ality? 

Millicent  shuddered  at  the  power  of  the  primitive 
being  within  herself;  and  the  feeling  which  angered 
and  humiliated  her  the  most  was  the  certitude  that 
for  the  moment  she  had  been  absolutely  happy  in  the 
arms  of  that  man.  Even  in  her  present  revulsion,  the 


recollection  of  it  had  almost  the  power  to  cause  her  to 
forget  all  else. 

Millicent  was  more  than  an  average  girl.  She  was 
one  of  those  women  who  are  the  glory  of  America,  and 
give  glimpses  and  hopes  of  a  yet  higher  womanhood 
to  come.  She  faced  herself  now  as  if  she  were  two 
distinct  persons:  she  herself,  and  this  other  one  who 
had  just  come  to  life,  and  sought  for  domination. 
The  civilized  Millicent  was  the  judge;  this  other  was 
the  culprit,  strong  and  rebellious. 

"What  is  it  that  you  want?"  she  demanded  of  her 
other  self;  and  the  unabashed  answer  was  such  as  to 
make  the  judge  blush.  For  the  rebel  wished  the  love 
of  a  man,  alien  to  her  faith  and  to  the  ideals  of  her 
country. 

She  shuddered.  Yes,  Elpis  was  right;  there  was  a 
primitive  being  in  her  who  answered  to  the  primitive 
call.  But  then  she  rallied  her  forces.  Elpis  could  not 
know  the  faith  in  themselves  which  American  women 
have  attained  through  their  education  and  their  posi 
tion  in  their  own  country. 

With  a  determined  gesture  Millicent  pushed  back 
her  golden  hair.  She  had  been  forced  to  acknowledge 
the  primitive  being  in  herself;  but  she  only  acknow 
ledged  it  in  order  to  fight  it  and  to  vanquish  it.  She 
filled  her  bowl  with  cold  water,  and  bathed  her  hands 
and  her  face.  After  this  she  felt  cleaner,  stronger. 
To-morrow  her  visit  to  the  Paparighopoulos  would 


152         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

come  to  an  end.  Back  at  her  uncle's  there  was  little 
chance  that  she  would  meet  Orkhan;  and  that  she 
did  not  wish  to  see  him  again  she  was  certain  at  this 
instant. 

Just  then  she  heard  Elpis  calling  her  name,  a  note 
of  gladness  in  her  voice. 

She  did  not  make  a  reply. 

Her  name  sounded  again,  in  the  hall  outside  her 
door. 

Millicent  sprang  up,  glanced  desperately  at  the 
keyless  lock,  and  then,  before  she  realized  at  all  what 
she  was  going  to  do,  she  ran  to  her  closet  and  hid  her 
self  in  it.  Elpis  came  into  the  room,  and  called  her 
name;  but  Millicent  cowered  low  in  the  darkness,  and 
pulled  the  gowns  in  front  of  her,  the  better  to  conceal 
herself.  She  heard  Elpis  go,  and,  still  calling  her,  pass 
downstairs  out  into  the  garden. 

Then  only  did  Millicent  come  from  her  hiding- 
place,  a  cloud  of  shame  reddening  her  brow.  She 
stood  before  the  mirror,  and  looked  straight  into  her 
own  eye. 

"Why  did  I  hide?"  she  demanded.  "Why  did  I  do 
it?" 

She  began  to  study  her  own  reflection  with  growing 
interest:  the  golden  hair,  the  lines  of  cheek  and  throat, 
the  superb  figure,  and  then  especially  the  mouth, 
which  curved  and  lived.  She  shook  her  head  at  the 
whole  lovely  reflection.  It  was  this  soulless  creature  of 


WHY  DID  I  DO  IT? 


THE  REFLECTION  IN  THE   MIRROR  153 

flesh  and  blood  who  had  been  born  this  day,  and 
threatened  to  rule  supreme. 

The  gray  eyes  alone  remained  true.  They  frowned. 

:'You  may  think  you  will  rule,"  they  said,  "but 
you  will  find  that  your  reign  is  short." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

BROTHER   AND   SISTER 

I  HAVE  bad  news  for  you,"  Elpis  cried,  her  eyes 
sparkling.  "I  have  been  hunting  for  you  every 
where  to  tell  you." 

"Bad  news?  You  don't  look  as  if  it  were  bad  news." 

"For  me  it  is  n't.  Your  aunt  is  down  with  scarlet 
fever,  and  you  are  to  stay  with  me  six  weeks  longer." 

"Oh!  but  I  must  go  back  to  them  at  once  and  see 
what  I  can  do." 

"Not  at  all.  They  don't  want  you.  Two  sisters 
from  the  French  Hospital  are  already  there,  and  your 
uncle  asked  Niko  if  you  could  stay  with  us  a  little 
while  longer  until  he  made  arrangements  for  you  else 
where.  Of  course  Niko  told  him  that  I  would  never 
let  you  go.  So,  my  beloved,  you  are  to  be  here  six 
weeks  longer  —  six  whole  weeks  —  think  of  that!" 

Slowly  the  color  heightened  in  Millicent's  cheeks. 

"I  am  glad  I  am  to  be  here,"  she  murmured,  sud 
denly  shy,  because  all  of  her  gladness  was  not  for  the 
pleasure  of  being  with  Elpis. 

The  news  deranged  all  her  plans,  set  all  her  good 
resolutions  at  naught.  Fate  had  stretched  forth  a 
careless  finger  and  brushed  aside  the  conscientious 
plan  of  a  maiden  as  if  it  were  a  cobweb.  Millicent  felt 


BROTHER  AND  SISTER  155 

a  subdued  elation  at  this  cavalier  upsetting  of  her 
resolutions.  It  was  not  her  fault.  She  had  meant  to 
go  home  to-morrow  and  never  to  see  Orkhan  again. 
Now  the  responsibility  was  taken  from  her  shoulders, 
and  she  was  almost  content  that  it  was  so.  With  Fate 
to  aid  and  abet  one,  the  best  of  us  are  capable  of 
pretty  nearly  anything. 

After  she  was  in  bed  that  night,  when  Elpis  came 
to  kiss  her  good-night,  Millicent  remarked,  quite 
casually:  — 

"I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  Orkhan  Effendi  was  here 
this  morning." 

"Yes?" 

Elpis  waited  for  more;  but  nothing  more  came. 
She  went  away  presently,  and  Millicent  hid  her 
burning  face  in  her  pillow.  "Forgot"  to  tell  that 
Orkhan  had  been  there,  when  she  had  been  thinking 
of  nothing  else  all  day. 

In  her  own  room  Elpis  sat  for  a  long  time  by  the 
window,  her  eyes  on  the  cold  comfort  of  the  stars. 
Poor  little  Millicent,  whom  she  would  so  gladly  help 
if  she  would  only  let  her,  —  and  if  any  one  could  help 
her.  She  felt  years  older  than  the  American  college 
girl,  and  yearned  over  her  with  a  love  like  that  of  a 
mother  for  her  helpless  offspring. 

Elpis  was  a  very  womanly  woman  beneath  the 
crust  of  cynical  brilliance  she  showed  the  world.  Fate 
had  not  been  altogether  kind  in  showering  her  with 


156         IN   THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

such  a  diversity  of  gifts.  With  a  less  active  mentality 
she  would  have  married  early,  adored  her  husband, 
and  worshiped  her  babies.  She  would  have  made  a 
happy  home  for  the  former;  and  upon  her  children  she 
would  have  lavished  an  affection  which  would  have 
continued  for  them  on  earth  the  celestial  home  whence 
the  poets  tell  us  they  come.  But  to  this  loving  nature 
had  been  added  a  mind  which  nullified  it.  Had  she 
been  less  richly  dowered  on  the  one  side  or  on  the 
other,  she  would  have  been  a  happier  woman. 

After  the  stars  had  twinkled  down  upon  her  for  a 
long  time,  she  sighed :  — 

"I  wish  I  had  taken  her  with  me  to-day." 

Another  long  silence. 

"But  she,  a  Puritan  —  so  different  from  us  women 
of  the  South.  How  could  she  have  been  touched  so 
quickly,  even  by  him?  She  forgot  to  tell  me  he  had 
been  here!  Poor  darling!" 

Elpis  did  not  voice  any  more  of  her  thoughts. 
Perhaps  they  were  too  difficult  to  utter.  She  remained 
waiting  by  the  window  till  the  small  hours  of  the 
night.  At  last  she  heard  her  brother's  footsteps.  She 
waited  for  him  to  go  to  his  room,  then  lighted  a  candle 
and  went  to  him. 

Softly  she  opened  the  door  of  his  sitting-room. 
Niko  Paparighopoulos  was  seated  by  his  student  lamp 
reading  a  letter.  Elpis  stood  still,  watching  him.  She 
knew  that  he  was  not  a  handsome  man,  but  she  felt 


BROTHER  AND  SISTER  157 

his  charm,  and  understood  the  attraction  he  had  for 
other  women.  There  was  something  very  lovable 
about  him,  and  his  sister  had  a  great,  almost  motherly 
affection  for  him.  But  deep  down  in  her  heart  —  so 
deep  that  she  rarely  looked  into  its  depth  —  she 
despised  him.  She  knew  that  he  had  spent  the  best 
years  of  his  manhood  as  his  friends  had  spent  theirs, 
and  she,  with  her  dreams  for  the  deliverance  of  the 
Greater  Greece  from  the  bondage  of  Turkey,  loathed 
this  waste  of  human  energy.  She  believed  that  were 
the  lives  of  the  best  Greeks  cleaner,  the  race  she  wor 
shiped  would  still  be  one  to  reckon  with. 

She  walked  into  his  room,  now,  her  loose  evening 
attire  showing  her  lithe  figure  off  to  its  best  advan 
tage. 

Her  brother  rose,  and  smiled  at  her  approach.  Like 
all  Greeks  he  had  a  great  admiration  for  physical 
perfection. 

"How  good-looking  you  are,  Elpis.  But  how  did 
you  happen  to  be  up  so  late?" 

The  girl  kissed  him  affectionately;  then  took  the 
chair  he  offered  her. 

"I  have  been  waiting  for  you,"  she  said. 

"Anything  serious?" 

"Orkhan  Effendi  has  been  here  to-day." 

"Indeed!  Did  he  leave  a  message  for  me?" 

"No.  Niko,  I  came  to  tell  you  that  I  do  not  wish 
him  to  come  here  again." 


158         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

The  Greek's  face  became  livid. 

"Has  he  dared  — "he  cried  in  a  voice  full  of  pas 
sion. 

"No,  Niko  dear,"  Elpis  interrupted  calmly.  "I 
know  your  right  to  defend  the  women  of  your  family. 
But  if  a  Turk  dared  —  and  I  had  not  encouraged  him 
to  dare  —  I  should  not  wait  for  you  to  hear  of  it.  I 
believe  in  speedy  action.  But  it  is  not  for  me;  it  is  for 
Millicent." 

Since  his  own  sister  was  not  involved,  the  Greek 
became  again  the  reasonable  man  of  the  world,  with 
an  abruptness  of  change  which  would  have  been  comi 
cal  had  there  been  any  one  present  to  appreciate  it. 

"Do  you  mean  that  they  are  beginning  to  care  for 
one  another?  I  do  not  see  why  they  should  not. 
Orkhan  is  my  friend,  and  a  first-rate  chap." 

"I  do  not  wish  him  to  come  here  again." 

"But  do  try  to  be  reasonable.  She  is  not  a  Greek 
woman,  she  is  an  American  —  and  American  women 
marry  anybody.  And  what  a  perfect  pair  they  would 
make,  she  the  daughter  of  the  sun,  he  the  son  of  the 
night." 

"Please  dismiss  your  poetical  imagery  for  a  prac 
tical  point  of  view,"  said  Elpis  dryly.  "I  do  not  wish 
Millicent  to  see  Orkhan  Effendi,  and  I  do  not  care 
what  methods  I  employ,  so  long  as  I  keep  them  sepa 
rate.  You  know  perfectly  well  that  the  love  of  a  Turk 
can  never  bring  happiness  to  a  Christian  woman." 


BROTHER  AND  SISTER  159 

Paparighopoulos  had  loved  many  women,  he  might 
almost  be  said  to  love  all  women.  But  he  wished  them 
to  be  mere  physical  women,  doting  on  the  love  of  man. 
In  spite  of  certain  advanced  views  he  sometimes  ad 
vocated,  he  was  essentially  Oriental  in  his  attitude 
toward  them.  He  could  utilize  their  cleverness,  as  he 
had  done  in  the  Young  Turks  movement;  but  clever 
women  he  respected  and  did  not  love.  Clever  women 
were  creatures  of  the  Devil,  made  for  the  discomfort 
of  men;  beautiful  women  were  made  for  their  happi 
ness.  Rather  grudgingly  he  accepted  the  help  of 
clever  women  —  with  gratitude  the  love  of  the  charm 
ing  ones. 

As  Elpis,  deep  down  in  her  heart,  despised  her 
brother,  so  he,  in  the  secret  precincts  of  his  being, 
mistrusted  his  sister.  He  could  not  blink  the  fact  that 
she  was  clever.  Since  she  had  come  of  age,  and  had 
assumed  the  administration  of  her  own  fortune,  there 
had  been  some  encounters  between  brother  and  sister, 
from  which  the  man  had  come  out  worsted.  He  feared 
her — and  men  should  never  fear  women.  He  was  very 
anxious  for  her  to  marry,  not  only  because  marriage 
was  the  only  proper  career  for  women,  but  because 
he  wished  to  see  some  other  man  encounter  her  brain. 
Her  brain!  What  right  had  she  to  a  man's  brain?  It 
disconcerted  him. 

Still,  as  she  sat  before  him  in  a  reclining-chair,  he 
was  enchanted  by  her,  nor  did  he  know  in  the  least 


160         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

that  what  he  loved  in  her  was  the  mind  and  soul 
which  lighted  the  face. 

"I  wish,  my  little  sister,"  he  said  very  tenderly, 
"that  you  were  talking  to  me  about  your  own  love- 
affairs,  not  another's.  Surely,  Elpis,  it  is  time  that 
you  should  choose." 

"Never  mind  about  me,  Niko.  I  want  you  to  help 
me  with  Millicent.  I  wish  you  would  be  very  atten 
tive  and  nice  to  her." 

"And  what  if  she  should  fall  in  love  with  me?"  he 
asked,  smiling. 

"I  wish  she  would.  I  could  cure  her  easily  from 
that." 

"You  are  not  very  complimentary.  But  supposing 
that  I  should  fall  in  love  with  her?" 

"You  mean  that  you  might  wish  to  marry  her? 
Well,  it  will  do  you  a  lot  of  good  to  want  to  marry 
her,  —  though  you  would  find  that  to  be  Miss  Grey's 
husband  would  not  be  an  easy  task.  She  will  make  a 
strenuous  wife." 

He  waved  a  hand.  "When  a  woman  loves,  it  is  so 
easy  to  tame  her." 

Elpis  regarded  her  brother  with  a  mocking  light  in 
her  eyes. 

"When  such  women  as  you  have  loved  —  perhaps. 
But  Millicent  is  different  from  those  you  have  known. 
Ah,  Niko  dear,  how  far  behind  the  times  some  of  you 
men  are!  —  And  now  will  you  do  what  I  ask?" 


BROTHER  AND   SISTER  161 

"I  most  certainly  will  not." 

"Why?" 

"First,  because  it  would  be  preposterous  to  forbid 
my  house  to  my  friend;  and  secondly,  because  I 
tacitly  told  Orkhan  that  I  would  not  interfere." 

"Ah!"  cried  Elpis,  "so  you  have  already  settled 
between  yourselves  who  is  going  to  have  her  — 
Achilles  and  Agamemnon;  only  this  time  there  is 
more  harmony  among  the  leaders.  But,  my  brother, 
the  time  has  gone  by  when  women  are  apportioned  out 
in  this  manner;  and  I  shall  at  least  see  that  Millicent 
is  not  sacrificed." 

"Why  do  you  call  it  a  sacrifice  of  her?  I  should 
rather  say  he  were  the  one  sacrificed,  since  a  woman 
would  come  between  him  and  his  work." 

The  Greek  girl  had  grown  pale. 

"Brother,  I  do  not  wish  Orkhan  to  come  into 
Millicent's  life." 

One  of  Niko  Paparighopoulos's  unspoken  ideas 
about  women  was  that  they  were  incapable  of  sincere 
affection  for  one  another.  Perceiving  that  his  sister 
was  really  in  earnest,  he  searched  about  for  another 
reason  than  the  one  she  gave  him.  His  mind  lighted 
on  the  most  obvious.  Could  Elpis  have  persistently 
refused  to  marry  because  she  was  herself  in  love  with 
Orkhan?  The  thought  struck  him  very  hard. 

He  grasped  his  sister's  arm  so  tightly  that  it  hurt 
her,  and  cried :  — 


162         IN   THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"What?  Can  it  be  that  you,  my  sister,  and  the 
daughter  of  the  Paparighopoulos,  are  so  contemptible 
as  to  care  for  a  Turk?  Ah!  but  I  could  kill  you!" 

Elpis,  in  furious  anger,  wrenched  herself  free.  She 
was  as  tall  as  he,  and  now  appeared  taller,  as  she 
faced  him,  apparently  calm,  in  such  a  white  heat  was 
she. 

"And  who  has  given  you  the  right  to  kill  me, 
please,  for  loving  whomsoever  I  choose?  Have  I 
killed  you  because  you  wasted  your  manhood  in  your 
light  loves?" 

Righo  was  trembling  with  anger  at  her  defiance,  but 
his  instinctive  good-breeding  enabled  him  to  master 
himself. 

"A  man's  life  is  not  like  a  woman's,"  he  managed 
to  say. 

"That  is  what  men  say;  but  I  do  not  see  why  I  have 
not  the  right  to  kill  you  for  such  acts  as  you  would  not 
condone  in  me.  We  are  both  guardians  of  the  honor  of 
the  same  name.  Who  gave  you  the  right  to  punish  me 
for  my  wrongdoings?  Who  made  you  master  over  me? 
There  was  a  time  when  men,  because  they  were 
stronger,  fought  for  the  honor  of  their  women,  but 
that  time  has  passed.  Civilization  now  protects  the 
women.  There  is  no  difference  in  our  codes  to-day, 
and  the  sooner  you  come  to  that  understanding,  the 
better  it  will  be  for  the  man  as  well  as  for  the  woman." 

While  speaking,  her  tone  had  changed.   Her  anger 


BROTHER  AND  SISTER  163 

had  subsided  as  quickly  as  it  had  arisen.  She  finished 
almost  as  if  he  were  a  little  boy,  and  she  his  guardian. 
Putting  her  hand  on  his  shoulder  now  she  added  very 
gently:  — 

"Ah!  my  dear  brother,  had  your  energy  been 
turned  in  the  right  direction,  what  a  Greek  you  would 
have  made." 

She  drew  his  reluctant  head  toward  her  and  kissed 
him. 

"Why  should  we  quarrel,  Niko?  There  is  no  cause, 
dear.  You  know  that  I  am  as  good  a  Greek  as  you. 
But  Orkhan,  apart  from  his  nationality,  is  a  very 
charming  man,  and  he  may  attract  Millicent,  the 
woman,  though  he  could  never  satisfy  her  mind,  her 
aspirations.  Her  life  is  precious,  —  so  is  his.  He  has 
dreams,  —  and  so  has  she.  Let  us,  then,  keep  them 
apart  for  their  mutual  good." 

Niko  considered  his  sister's  words  for  some  time. 

"I  cannot  say  that  the  matter  strikes  me  exactly 
as  it  does  you,  Elpis.  In  the  first  place,  there  is  not  the 
same  bloody  past  between  Americans  and  Turks  that 
there  is  between  Greeks  and  Turks.  Then,  Orkhan  is 
not  of  the  old  Turks:  he  is  of  the  new  order  which 
seeks  to  advance  his  nation  in  civilization,  just  as  the 
Americans  wish  to  advance  theirs.  Are  we  not  rather 
insulting  Miss  Grey's  intelligence  by  presupposing  her 
incapable  of  choosing  a  suitable  man  for  her  husband? 
And  moreover,  if  she  is  incapable,  should  we  not  be 


164         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

doing  the  very  thing  to  drive  her  to  him,  by  trying  to 
prevent  her  seeing  him?" 

Righo,  though  still  angry,  was  to  outward  appear 
ance  quite  calm  and  dispassionate;  and  his  sister, 
after  her  recent  outbreak,  was  more  gentle  and  amen 
able  than  usual.  Though  in  her  heart  unconvinced, 
she  admitted  the  force  of  her  brother's  reasoning. 
She  hung  her  head  dejectedly. 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,  brother,"  she  said.  " Good 
night";  and  slowly  she  went  from  the  room. 

He  looked  after  her. 

"What  curious  creatures  women  are  when  they 
think,"  he  murmured,  "and  how  crookedly  they  do  it. 
Hinder  Orkhan !  On  the  contrary,  I  should  like  him  to 
marry  her  —  and  the  sooner  the  better.  A  woman  is 
a  mystery  to  a  man  so  long  as  he  is  not  married  to 
her." 

And  with  this  philosophical  reflection  he  went  back 
to  his  letter. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE   EAST   CLAIMS   HER   SON 


WHEN  Orkhan  went  away  from  Millicent  he 
was  not  quite  so  unruffled  as  he  seemed.  He 
walked  more  rapidly  than  was  his  custom,  his  stride 
unconsciously  adjusting  itself  to  the  progression  of  his 
thoughts.  For  the  first  time  a  woman  had  really  come 
into  his  life.  Till  now  his  work  had  been  preeminent. 
The  desire  for  Millicent  made  him  again  —  in  spite  of 
his  education  and  his  enlightened  aspirations  —  a  Turk. 

To  a  Turk  the  present  alone  exists :  by  his  religion 
he  is  forbidden  to  think  of  the  morrow.  In  a  measure 
he  regretted  that  Millicent  had  come  thus  unexpect 
edly  into  his  life,  to  complicate  it.  But  what  was  the 
use  of  wasting  regrets  over  the  inevitable?  With  one 
shrug  of  the  shoulders  he  shook  off  his  Occidental 
education:  his  soul  belonged  to  the  East.  Being  a 
Turk,  he  implicitly  believed  in  his  superiority,  both  as 
a  male  and  as  an  Osmanli ;  and  the  mere  fact  that  he 
wanted  a  woman  was  reason  sufficient  that  she  should 
become  his. 

In  the  olden  times  when  a  Turk  saw  a  woman  and 
desired  her,  he  fought  her  legal  masters  and  thus 
obtained  her.  Later,  he  bought  her;  and  he  still  pur 
chases  her,  although  new  the  price  he  pays  is  called 


her  dowry.  The  feelings  through  which  the  men  of 
other  nationalities  arrive  at  marriage  are  unknown  to 
the  Turks.  Social  considerations  do  not  exist  among 
them.  A  man  may  marry  whom  he  chooses,  and  the 
mere  fact  of  his  marrying  her  elevates  her  to  the  state 
of  a  free  woman,  if  she  be  a  slave,  or  to  the  rank  of  a 
great  lady,  if  she  be  lowly,  and  he  of  high  standing. 

Now  that  Orkhan  loved  Millicent,  all  other  con 
siderations  for  the  moment  became  secondary.  He 
still  felt  a  tinge  of  resentment  towards  her  that  she 
should  have  set  his  pulses  to  beating  for  her  at  this 
inopportune  hour;  but  his  desire  for  her  was  over 
powering,  and  the  thrill  it  caused  him  more  than  offset 
his  resentment.  That  she  eventually  would  become 
his,  he  did  not  even  question.  All  that  mattered  was 
that  he  loved  her,  that  he  wanted  her.  This  was  the 
supreme  fact.  With  the  instinct  that  belongs  to  the 
Turkish  man,  more,  perhaps,  than  to  the  man  of  any 
other  nation,  he  divined  that  she  cared  for  him.  That 
she  would  learn  to  love  him  supremely,  once  she  were 
his,  he  did  not  doubt  for  an  instant.  He  smiled  in 
contentment.  His  stride  became  slower  and  slower. 
Near  by  was  a  grove  of  trees.  He  turned  into  it,  and 
sat  down;  and,  Turk-like,  abandoned  himself  to  the 
contemplation  of  his  coming  happiness. 

It  did  not  once  disturb  the  pleasant  tenor  of  his 
thoughts  that  she  was  an  American  with  different 
ideas  from  his  own,  and  that  she  had  in  a  measure 


THE  EAST  CLAIMS  HER  SON        167 

repulsed  him.  It  was  right  that  the  woman  should  at 
first  be  shy  of  the  man's  caresses.  It  was  a  part  of  the 
game  of  love.  She  should  hide,  and  he  should  seek. 
Women  had  been  created  for  men,  they  were  neces 
sary  to  his  pleasure,  and  in  order  that  he  might  be 
come  the  father  of  men.  And  a  woman's  happiness 
comes  to  her  when  she  is  loved  by  a  man  and  per 
mitted  by  Allah  to  bring  sons  into  the  world. 

In  a  dreamy,  ruminative  way  Orkhan  mapped  out 
his  life  and  that  of  Millicent.  He  meant  to  make  her 
very  happy,  to  give  her  all  that  a  woman  needed.  In 
his  love  for  her  he  was  already  planning  the  beautiful 
house,  the  vast,  flower-filled  garden  which  should  be 
hers,  and  which,  besides  his  love,  would  be  all  that  she 
would  need.  Once  or  twice  certain  obstacles  lying 
between  him  and  his  marriage  with  Millicent  claimed 
his  attention,  but  with  Oriental  fatalism  Orkhan 
brushed  these  aside,  and  gave  himself  up  to  the  happi 
ness  of  the  moment. 

After  an  hour's  pleasant  meditation,  he  rose  and 
walked  slowly  down  to  where  his  boat  was  waiting  for 
him.  He  stepped  into  it,  and  ordered  his  men  to  row 
him  to  his  home.  But  now,  lying  in  the  bottom  of  his 
boat,  he  left  the  agreeable  pictures  that  he  had  pre 
viously  conjured  up.  He  turned  over  a  page  of  the 
book  of  life,  and  faced  the  difficulties  before  him. 
These  were  not  Millicent's  nationality,  her  religion, 
or  what  different  ideas  from  his  she  might  hold  con- 


168        IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

cerning  the  conduct  of  life.  Neither  had  they  even  a 
suspicion  of  the  timid  lover's  fears  lest  his  love  be 
rejected.  No,  the  only  thing  which  troubled  him  was 
that,  as  he  valued  his  life  and  Millicent's,  he  could  not 
dream  of  marrying  her  openly  —  or  even  of  letting 
his  love  for  her  be  known. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

A   SULTANA   IN   LOVE 

IN  the  olden  times,  Orkhan,  being  the  son  of  a 
sister  of  the  Sultan,  would  have  been  killed  at  his 
birth,  in  order  that  no  male  of  a  collateral  branch 
should  exist  to  have  pretensions  to  the  throne.  Even 
Turkey  has  made  some  progress  during  the  nineteenth 
century.  Although  each  new  Sultan  still  has  the 
privilege  of  diminishing  the  number  of  his  heirs,  if  he 
deem  this  safer,  —  especially  if  they  are  the  sons  of 
capable  mothers,  —  yet  many  of  the  women  who  have 
the  ill-luck  to  be  born  imperial  princesses  are  per 
mitted  to  see  their  sons  grow  up. 

In  his  boyhood  and  early  youth  Orkhan  had  shown 
a  scholarly  aptitude.  As  the  house  of  Othman  had 
once  been  distinguished  for  its  poets  and  writers,  no 
less  than  for  its  statesmen  and  warriors,  it  pleased  the 
Sultan  to  have  one  of  his  nephews  bring  glory  to  his 
line  with  his  pen,  and  he  received  favorably  the  sug 
gestion  of  Orkhan's  English  tutor  that  he  send  him  to 
Oxford.  When,  four  years  later,  spies  reported  that 
Orkhan  had  become  interested  in  the  Young  Turks 
movement,  he  sent  for  him.  The  young  man's  instant 
obedience  lessened  the  Sultan's  suspicions.  Before  he 
made  up  his  mind  what  to  do  with  Orkhan,  his  favor- 


170         IN   THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

ite  daughter,  Leila  Sultana,  chanced  to  see  Orkhan, 
and  fell  in  love  with  him. 

Orkhan,  who  had  all  his  plans  laid  for  instant  flight, 
found  himself  showered  with  honors,  and  was  in 
formed  that  he  was  to  become  Leila's  husband.  The 
thought  of  uniting  his  blood  with  that  of  his  father's 
murderer  was  not  pleasing;  and  besides  he  had  no 
taste  for  becoming  a  virtual  prisoner  in  the  Palace  — 
the  fate  of  men  who  marry  imperial  princesses ;  yet  he 
received  the  announcement  with  becoming  expres 
sions  of  gratitude.  He  declared,  however,  that  he  had 
made  a  vow  to  his  mother  not  to  marry  before  he  was 
thirty-five.  Not  even  the  Sultan  would  think  of  forc 
ing  him  to  disregard  a  vow  made  to  a  dead  mother; 
and  the  young  man  felt  a  hope  that  Princess  Leila 
would  not  care  to  spend  the  best  years  of  her  youth  in 
celibacy. 

In  the  latter  respect  Orkhan  was  disappointed. 
Princess  Leila  chose  to  wait.  Until  he  fell  in  love 
with  Millicent,  this  seemed,  on  the  whole,  a  fortunate 
circumstance.  For  in  spite  of  Orkhan's  continued  in 
terest  in  the  Young  Turks  movement,  only  one  spy 
ever  breathed  a  word  against  him  to  the  Sultan.  That 
spy  died  within  three  hours,  and  thereafter  Orkhan 
bore  a  charmed  life,  —  for  even  spies  must  live.  But 
Orkhan  soon  discovered  himself  to  be  under  another 
surveillance  even  more  rigid  than  that  of  the  Sultan. 
Princess  Leila  believed  in  his  vow  to  his  dead  mother, 


A  SULTANA  IN  LOVE  171 

and  intended  that  he  should  keep  it  rigidly.  A 
trusted  kelardzi  was  put  at  the  head  of  his  household, 
and  his  every  movement,  as  a  man,  was  reported  to 
his  affianced.  His  actions  as  a  Young  Turk  or  con 
spirator  did  not  interest  her.  Brought  up  in  an  at 
mosphere  where  conspiracy  and  plots  were  the  ordi 
nary  vexations  of  living,  she  looked  upon  them  as 
necessary  evils,  and  not  dangerous. 

As  his  men  were  now  rowing  him  toward  his  kiosk, 
he  was  wondering  how  he  could  outwit  the  Princess. 
To  defy  her  openly  was  impossible:  it  would  mean 
certain  death  for  Millicent,  and  probably  for  himself. 
He  could  not  even  think  of  the  possibility  of  two 
wives,  since  the  husband  of  an  imperial  princess  was 
condemned  to  monogamy. 

Now  that  he  loved  Millicent,  his  first  thought, 
Turk-like,  was  to  hide  her  from  the  world,  to  keep  her 
for  himself,  to  enjoy  her  in  secrecy,  as  a  miser  gloats 
over  his  treasure.  The  thought  that  Righo  should  see 
her  every  day,  should  speak  to  her  face  to  face,  and 
touch  her  hand  in  the  immodest  way  of  the  Chris 
tians,  maddened  him,  and  roused  in  his  heart  a  bitter 
feeling  of  antagonism  toward  a  man  whom  up  to  this 
time  he  had  liked. 

"I  need  the  help  of  a  woman,"  he  murmured.  "She 
must  be  sympathetic  and  intelligent,  and  of  my  own 
race."  He  thought  of  his  old  nurse,  but  dismissed  her 
as  too  ignorant.  The  image  of  his  cousin  Malkhatoun 


172         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

came  to  him.  She  was  the  one  to  help  him.  She  be 
longed  to  the  Young  Turks  Party,  she  hated  Sultan 
Abdul  Hamid,  the  Usurper,  who  had  thrown  into 
prison  the  father  of  her  father,  the  rightful  sultan,  — 
she  would  help  him  to  trick  Leila  Sultana.  He  could 
not  see  her  openly;  but  he  had  managed  to  talk  with 
her  several  times,  and  could  do  so  again.  In  the  Pal 
ace  he  had  found  the  vigilance  of  his  affianced  to  be 
relaxed.  There  he  was  supposed  only  to  be  in  the 
selamlik,  the  men's  quarters,  or  to  pay  pious  visits  to 
his  old  nurse,  his  milk-mother.  It  was  in  the  kiosk  of 
this  milk-mother  that  had  been  arranged  the  meetings 
with  Malkhatoun.  Through  his  nurse's  devotion  he 
had  been  able  to  penetrate  into  the  haremlik  of  the  ex- 
sultan  and  to  gain  the  cooperation  of  his  cousin. 

Having  decided  on  the  course  he  would  pursue, 
Orkhan  ordered  his  boatmen  to  proceed  to  the  Im 
perial  Palace. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

ON   DANGEROUS   GROUND 

THE  Palace  is  a  city  within  a  city.  There  dwell 
thousands  of  men  and  women,  women  who  are 
wives,  ex-wives,  kalfas,  nurses,  ex-nurses,  or  merely 
beautiful  girls  who  may  become  wives.  There  are  also 
a  multitude  of  slaves  with  neither  high  recollections 
nor  high  aims.  Here  live  in  semi-imprisonment  all 
those  who  may  some  day  be  called  upon  to  become 
Allah's  Great  Shadow.  Meanwhile  they  are  mere 
human  shadows,  living  in  the  enervating  atmosphere 
of  odalisques.  Every  movement  of  these  princes  is 
watched,  every  word  of  theirs  reported  and  inter 
preted.  Some  of  them,  it  is  said,  acquire  the  habit  of 
never  speaking.  This  does  not  mean  that  intrigues  are 
not  going  on  daily  and  hourly.  The  constant  espion 
age  seems  to  render  its  subjects,  in  the  end,  reckless, 
and  ready  for  all  sorts  of  harebrained  plots.  Amid  the 
slaves,  not  infrequently,  some  gorgeous  girl,  just 
bought  and  brought  into  the  Palace,  is  the  secret  em 
issary  of  some  personage  of  hir1-  rank,  holding  in  her 
pink  palm  the  lives  of  half  a  score  of  the  great. 

Mahometan  fatalism  assists  this  condition  greatly. 
With  one's  fate  already  written  down  in  the  sacred 
books,  why  not  embark  in  dangerous  enterprises? 


174         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

Only  that  will  befall  which  will  befall.  Thus,  within 
the  precincts  of  the  Palace  many  a  plot  is  hatched,  and 
many  a  life  is  lost;  and  all  these  things  which  happen 
are  only  the  prelude  to  the  eternal  bliss  which  will 
come  to  all  true  believers  in  paradise. 

Orkhan  found  his  nurse  in  her  small  kiosk  which 
she  shared  with  a  miradju,  now  too  old  either  to  invent 
or  satisfactorily  to  repeat  the  tales  with  which  she 
once  delighted  the  ears  of  sultanas.  Her  vogue  was 
over,  and  she  only  told  her  stories  to  such  palaces  as 
were  not  sufficiently  in  favor  to  expect  better  miradjus. 
Orkhan's  nurse,  having  given  her  milk  to  one  who  had 
the  blood  of  Othman  in  his  veins,  was  entitled  to  good 
treatment  as  long  as  she  lived,  even  though  her  foster- 
child  should  chance  to  be  executed  as  a  rebel.  A  mo 
ther  comes  first  among  the  Turks,  a  nurse  second, 
children  third,  and  a  mere  wife  fourth. 

Nurse  Saaded's  kiosk  consisted  of  two  apartments, 
where  she  and  the  old  miradju  trained  up  a  bevy  of 
young  slaves.  It  was  Orkhan's  duty  to  come  from 
time  to  time  and  kiss  the  hand  of  the  woman  whose 
milk,  as  the  Turks  believe,  flowed  in  his  veins.  She  had 
enlisted  in  the  Young  Turks  movement  without  in  the 
least  understanding  it.  She  only  knew  that  her  boy, 
her  Orkhan,  wished  her  to  do  certain  things ;  and  she 
would  have  done  them  had  they  cost  her  her  life.  She 
was  devoted  to  her  foster-child.  Was  he  not  a  male? 
Was  he  not  of  the  imperial  blood?  Was  he  not  tall 


ON  DANGEROUS  GROUND  175 

and  straight  and  handsome?  There  had  never  been 
a  hero,  in  his  nurse's  eyes,  so  great  as  her  Orkhan. 

At  sight  of  him  she  clapped  her  hands  with  joy.  She 
prostrated  herself  before  him.  She  embraced  his  feet, 
and  rising,  took  him  in  her  old  arms  and  petted  him 
and  kissed  him  and  scolded  him,  as  if  he  were  still  a 
baby. 

"It  is  a  long  time  since  I  have  seen  my  young  lion," 
she  complained.  "Even  our  Padishah  kisses  his 
nurse's  hand  oftener  than  my  boy  does  mine." 

Orkhan  stretched  himself  out  on  a  hard  sofa,  his 
head  in  his  nurse's  lap,  in  order  that  she  might  fondle 
him  to  her  heart's  content.  When  slaves  brought  in 
coffee  and  sweetmeats,  he  ate  and  drank,  and  praised 
them  extravagantly.  Nowhere  else  could  he  obtain 
such  good  things  as  he  did  here,  he  avowed. 

"You  can't  say  as  much  for  the  slaves  who  brought 
them  in,"  Nurse  Saaded  complained.  "I  am  only  per 
mitted  to  have  plain  ones  to  train  for  menial  work. 
Leila  Sultana  sees  to  it  that  no  young  beauties  are 
apportioned  to  this  household." 

In  the  whining  voice  common  in  Oriental  women  of 
her  class  she  spent  a  quarter  of  an  hour  complaining 
of  Leila  Sultana's  behavior  and  of  the  cruel  condi 
tions  under  which  her  Orkhan  had  to  live.  The  sup 
posed  vow  to  the  dead  mother,  and  the  heartless  sur 
veillance  of  the  promised  wife,  denied  to  her  young 
lion  that  which,  to  a  woman  of  her  thinking,  it  was 


176        IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

only  right  that  he  should  have,  and  this  deprivation 
rendered  him  even  dearer  to  her. 

Presently  her  whining  died  away.  She  leaned  to 
ward  him  and  put  her  lips  close  to  his  ear. 

"But  I  know  how  to  outwit  the  Princess,"  she  whis 
pered.  "  Oh,  my  lion,  I  have  tucked  away,  somewhere, 
a  young  slave,  wondrous  as  a  houri, — and  all  for  you, 
my  boy,  all  for  you!" 

Orkhan  laughed  and  patted  her  affectionately  on 
the  back. 

"That 's  very  kind  of  you,  but  I  am  too  busy  for 
houris,  just  now.  There  are  too  many  things  for  me 
to  do." 

Nurse  Saaded  began  to  cry.  "They  were  making 
her  boy  an  ascetic,  a  Christian  monk,  and  Allah  did 
not  like  it.  Why  had  he  given  him  such  glorious  man 
hood,  if  he  were  to  waste  it?  Where  were  his  sons? 
They  were  all  still  unborn.  Was  that  right  toward 
Allah?" 

"There!  there!  milk-mother,  don't  cry  any  more. 
Soon  my  sons  will  be  born,  and  you  can  rule  over  them 
as  you  ruled  over  me;  but  I  am  in  trouble,  and  I  want 
your  help." 

She  stopped  crying  at  once,  her  big  black  eyes  fas 
tened  on  his  face. 

"I  must  see  my  cousin  Malkhatoun,"  Orkhan  whis 
pered  in  her  ear. 

The  old  woman's  face  showed  her  fright. 


ON  DANGEROUS  GROUND  177 

"At  this  hour?  Is  my  lion  growing  mad?" 

Orkhan  drew  her  to  him  and  kissed  her.  "I  must, 
nurse.  I  came  to  you  because  I  knew  you  could  man 
age  it." 

She  still  feebly  tried  to  dissuade  him,  but  he  only  in 
sisted  the  more.  Finally  Saaded  gave  in.  After  all, 
only  that  could  happen  which  was  already  foretold. 
Besides  it  pleased  her  tremendously  to  outwit  Princess 
Leila,  who  would  only  give  her  ugly  slave  girls  to  train. 
Her  life  had  been  growing  monotonous  of  late :  these 
adventures  added  piquancy. 

She  rose  and  went  into  the  other  room  to  consult 
with  the  old  miradju.  They  put  their  heads  together, 
and  discussed  various  plans,  which  they  rejected. 
Finally  they  hit  upon  one  which  pleased  them  both, 
whereupon  they  fell  into  each  other's  arms  and  em 
braced. 

Nurse  Saaded  returned  to  Orkhan  with  the  air  of  a 
conqueror,  and  in  whispers  told  him  her  plan. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

IN   DISGUISE 

UNDER  ordinary  circumstances  it  would  have 
been  quite  possible  for  Orkhan  to  have  an  occa 
sional  interview  with  his  cousin  Malkhatoun;  but 
during  the  suspicious  reign  of  Abdul  Hamid  all  intima 
cies  between  cousins  were  frowned  upon.  When  the 
blood  of  Othman  met  the  blood  of  Othman  he  feared 
plotting  —  and  Malkhatoun  was  younger  and  fairer 
than  Leila  Sultana.  The  mistrust  and  disfavor  in 
which  the  household  of  the  deposed  sultan  was  held, 
though  they  rendered  intercourse  with  its  members 
difficult,  prepared  them  for  the  propaganda  of  the 
Young  Turks  Party ;  and  they  became  ardent  workers 
in  the  movement  which  planned  the  downfall  of  the 
Usurper. 

It  is  true  that  the  palace  of  the  former  sultan  was 
filled  with  spies;  but  many  of  these  were  eventually 
won  over  to  the  side  of  this  household  so  filled  with  un- 
happiness  and  romance.  Malkhatoun,  with  her  beauty 
and  grace,  gained  the  hearts  of  not  a  few  who  were  set 
to  spy  upon  her  family.  And  those  who  still  remained 
faithful  to  Abdul  Hamid  were  outwitted  by  those 
faithful  to  Murad's  household. 

It  took  several  hours  to  perfect  the  plans  for  the  in- 


IN  DISGUISE  179 


terview  Orkhan  desired.  An  Oriental,  he  did  not  fret 
at  the  delay.  He  ate  his  dinner,  drank  several  cups  of 
coffee,  and  then  stretched  himself  out  on  a  divan  and 
gave  himself  to  sleep,  while  waiting. 

Under  pretext  of  inquiring  about  his  health,  Prin 
cess  Leila  sent  two  old  slaves  to  Saaded's  kiosk.  The 
old  nurse  and  the  miradju  were  dismayed  at  their  com 
ing.  Presently  their  cunning  minds  saw  a  way  of  turn 
ing  this  to  their  advantage.  Softly  they  opened  the 
door  of  the  room  in  which  Orkhan  was  taking  his  nap 
and  let  the  slaves  peep  in.  The  latter  wished  to  go  near 
him.,  Nurse  Saaded  vehemently  opposed  this,  and 
threw  her  arms  around  the  waist  of  one  of  the  slaves ; 
but  the  other,  with  a  triumphant  leer,  slipped  by  her 
and  approached  the  couch  where  Orkhan  lay.  She 
stopped,  dismayed.  This  was  no  deception:  this  was 
assuredly  Orkhan  Effendi,  and  as  he  stirred  in  his 
sleep,,  the  slave  hastily  crept  out  of  the  room. 

The  miradju  closed  the  door,  and  then  turned 
fiercely  on  the  old  slave:  — 

"Do  you  take  our  master  to  be  a  dancing-girl  to 
be  gap^d  at  by  every  ill-begotten  one  who  desires 
to?" 

"Do  not  be  angry  with  us.  Leila  Sultana  wishes  to 
know  how  the  health  of  her  affianced  is,"  replied  the 
slave  apologetically.  "She  had  heard  rumors  that  he 
was  not  so  well." 

"And  we  would  have  been  beaten,"  the  other  added 


180        IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

hastily,  "had  we  come  back  without  having  seen  with 
our  own  eyes  that  he  was  well." 

The  old  plotters  pretended  to  be  mollified,  and  in 
vited  the  slaves  to  spend  the  afternoon  with  them,  and 
see  the  young  slaves  they  were  training.  The  two 
crones  accepted  with  a  smirk  of  satisfaction.  Their 
orders  were  not  to  leave  the  house  until  they  saw  Ork- 
han  go  away,  and  they  were  not  a  little  pleased  to  have 
their  hostesses  play  into  their  hands. 

When  all  were  seated,  partaking  of  refreshments, 
and  pleasantly  talking  palace  scandal,  a  eunuch  ar 
rived  from  ex-Sultan  Murad's  household,  begging  the 
miradju  to  go  there  and  amuse  a  little  boy  who  had 
been  taken  ill  with  the  measles. 

"Yes,  when  little  boys  have  measles  they  send  for 
me,"  the  old  dame  grumbled;  "but  when  there  are 
many  guests  and  much  merrymaking  they  do  not  wish 
to  hear  me  any  more.  I  have  guests  of  my  own.  I  can 
not  go." 

The  eunuch  looked  downcast. 

"He  is  a  very  nice  little  boy  and  he  asked  especially 
for  you,"  he  urged.  "  He  said : '  I  want  to  hear  Miriam 
Hanoum  tell  about  the  White  Bear '  -  and  he  is  all 
speckled  from  the  measles." 

"It  is  bad  luck  to  refuse  a  favor  to  a  sick  child," 
Nurse  Saaded  put  in. 

The  miradju  rose  protestingly. 

"At  my  age  a  person  should  not  have  her  comfort 


IN  DISGUISE  181 


disturbed  by  every  speckled  child  —  and  it  was  such  a 
pleasant  conversation  we  were  having.  But  you  will 
come  again,  sometime,  and  tell  me  the  rest  of  that 
story.  If  the  child  were  not  sick  —  " 

Still  mumbling  and  grumbling,  she  left  the  room. 
Outside,  it  ceased,  and  her  old  eyes  sparkled  with  ex 
citement.  She  hurried  to  her  own  room,  gathered  up 
her  best  outer  garments  and  several  strips  of  white 
cloth,  and  went  to  where  Orkhan  was  still  "deceiving 
the  dead."  With  her  hand  outstretched  to  waken  him, 
she  stopped,  leaning  over  the  couch.  He  was,  indeed, 
good  to  look  at,  she  thought.  The  women  he  would 
love  would  be  fortunate  ones.  She  sighed,  thinking  of 
her  own  young  days.  With  the  edge  of  her  indoor  veil 
she  wiped  the  moisture  from  her  eyes.  Women  are 
young  in  this  world  only  once,  and  Allah  was  good  to 
make  such  men  as  Orkhan. 

Leaning  down  she  kissed  him  softly  on  the  forehead. 

"Wake  up,  young  aslan /"she  whispered. 

Orkhan  stretched  himself,  and  slowly  opened  his 
eyes. 

The  old  woman  smiled  at  him. 

"Wake  up,  Bey  Effendi.  All  is  ready!" 

Orkhan  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Do  not  make  any  noise,"  she  warned.  "Two  spies 
from  the  Princess  are  here.  They  have  seen  you  and 
are  content.  Now  is  the  time  to  take  you  to  Princess 
Malkhatoun." 


182 


She  kneeled  down  and  took  his  shoes  off.  She 
wrapped  the  strips  of  white  cloth  about  his  legs  till 
they  were  as  fat  and  bulky  as  her  own.  Then  she 
dressed  him  in  voluminous  petticoats,  put  on  the 
outer  yashmak,  and  finally  enveloped  his  head  in 
yards  and  yards  of  yellow  gauze.  Secretly  she  con 
gratulated  herself  on  her  vanity,  which  made  her  al 
ways  thus  conceal  from  sight  the  ravages  of  time. 

"It  is  fortunate  I  was  tall  when  I  stood  up  straight. 
But  you  must  bend  well  over  and  not  forget.  Now, 
take  this  stick  and  imitate  my  walk.  So !  Only  slower. 
It  is  the  young  who  have  plenty  of  time  who  walk  fast. 
Ah!  that  is  better." 

When  Orkhan's  performance  satisfied  his  critical 
teacher,  she  kissed  him,  and  gave  him  her  blessing. 

"If  it  is  preordained  that  we  should  be  discovered, 
who  can  help  that?"  she  ended  with  a  sigh. 

Orkhan  tottered  forth  into  the  sunshine,  beside  the 
eunuch,  while  Leila  Sultana's  spies  were  sipping  sher 
bets  with  Nurse  Saaded. 

In  his  place  on  the  divan  lay  the  old  miradju,  his 
coat  on,  his  fez  pulled  down  over  her  face  and  the 
coverlet  drawn  up  to  her  chin,  tranquilly  waiting  to 
learn  what  Allah  had  ordained  should  happen  to  her 
next. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

MALKHATOUN 

IN  one  of  the  group  of  gilded  palaces  forming  the 
imperial  residence,  lived  the  family  of  Sultan  Mu 
rad,  the  unfortunate  prince  who  was  deposed  shortly 
after  his  accession  to  the  throne,  and  who  was  re 
tained  in  solitary  confinement  as  insane  until  he  died. 

Sultan  Abdul  Hamid  had  always  watched  this  house 
hold  with  suspicious  eyes.  So  long  as  Sultan  Murad 
lived,  —  who  might  easily  become  sane  again,  were 
there  a  successful  revolution  in  his  behalf,  —  it  was  a 
menace  to  his  reign.  Afterwards,  its  members  living 
quietly,  united  by  their  misfortunes,  it  caused  him 
little  uneasiness,  and  he  began  to  view  it  more  len 
iently,  and  even  at  times  made  its  members  unex 
pected  gifts  of  extra  money. 

Among  the  daughters  and  granddaughters  of  Murad 
were  several  renowned  for  their  loveliness.  Pearl 
among  them  all  was  Malkhatoun,  who  was  now  sitting 
alone  in  her  room,  her  guitar  by  her  side,  and  nu 
merous  books  in  French  and  English  scattered  over  the 
velvet  carpet  which  covered  her  divan.  But  she  was 
not  playing  or  reading.  She  was  sitting  on  the  divan, 
looking  out  through  the  gilded  lattices  into  the  garden 
which  surrounded  her  prison,  and  dreaming  of  the 


184         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

Might-be  and  the  May-not,  of  the  paradise,  or  the  sad, 
monotonous  years  before  her,  as  youth  will  always 
dream.  During  the  last  two  years  there  had  been 
times  when  she  had  been  very  happy,  aiding  her  for 
mer  playfellow  Orkhan  in  his  work  for  the  Young 
Turks  —  Orkhan,  who  never  noticed  that  she  had 
grown  to  be  a  woman.  And  in  a  year  she  was  destined 
to  become  the  bride  of  another  cousin.  She  glanced 
down  at  her  slender  hands.  Among  the  many  rings  on 
them  was  one  whose  yellow  stone  borrowed  its  color 
from  a  liquid  it  contained.  It  was  only  a  drop,  but 
that  drop  could  save  Malkhatoun  from  a  hateful 
fate. 

She  twirled  the  ring  around  on  her  finger.  "You 
precious  one,"  she  murmured,  "how  dear  you  are 
to  me!" 

Her  glance  fell  on  a  bent  figure  and  two  slaves  com 
ing  toward  her  palace.  At  first  she  did  not  even  feel 
idle  curiosity  concerning  them.  Then  she  leaned  for 
ward,  her  breath  came  fast,  and  the  color  flickered 
over  her  cheeks. 

"Is  it  —  Yes,  it  is  he!  Oh !  how  risky  in  broad  day 
light.  How  well  disguised  he  is.  Allah  guard  him! 
Allah  be  with  him!" 

She  did  not  take  her  eyes  from  him  until  he  passed 
out  of  sight  around  the  corner  of  the  house.  Then  she 
rose,  went  into  an  inner  room,  and  stood  before  her 
mirror.  It  told  her  once  more  that  there  was  no  flaw 


MALKHATOUN  185 

in  her  beauty,  but  there  was  only  momentary  pleasure 
in  this.  A  shadow  came  over  her  face. 

"  Malkhatoun,  thou  mayest  be  a  treasure  of  a  wo 
man,  as  thy  name  declares;  but  he  desires  no  such 
treasure  as  thou  art." 

The  face  in  the  mirror  frowned  at  her  as  she  spoke; 
nevertheless  she  went  to  a  closet,  took  out  a  dark  red 
cloak,  embroidered  with  gold  thread,  and  threw  it 
about  her  slender  figure.  It  concealed,  yet  suggested 
her  lines,  and  covered  her  bare  arms  and  the  bare  Cir 
cassian  throat.  Her  small  head,  crowned  with  blue- 
black  masses  of  wavy  hair,  rose  above  her  slender  neck 
like  a  flower  on  its  stem. 

Malkhatoun  surveyed  her  head  with  a  slight  disap 
proval.  She  opened  a  casket,  took  out  a  long  chain  of 
emeralds,  and  twined  it  among  her  tresses  over  her 
forehead.  The  color  of  the  stones  accentuated  the  deep 
reflections  of  her  dark  eyes  and  enhanced  her  beauty. 
For  a  few  seconds  she  stood  enchanted  with  her  own 
loveliness.  Then,  remembering,  she  tore  the  emeralds 
from  her  head  roughly. 

"Thy  beauty  is  nothing  to  him!" 

She  tossed  the  chain  on  a  table,  and  in  its  place 
threw  a  sombre  lace  veil  over  her  hair,  and  then  waited. 

In  a  few  minutes  a  young  slave  of  her  own  age,  and 
who  had  drunk  the  same  milk  as  she,  becoming  thus 
her  milk-sister,  came  cautiously  into  the  room. 

"  Malkhatoun,  my  sister,"  she  whispered,  "you  must 


186         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

come  to  your  work  cabinet.  He  is  there  waiting  for 
you.  The  whole  line  is  on  guard,  and  he  will  be  safe  so 
long  as  he  is  in  this  house." 

Although  Malkhatoun  had  seen  him  coming  and  had 
been  making  ready  for  him,  now  she  trembled  like  a 
leaf  in  the  wind. 

"Go  say  I  —  I  am  coming;  but  first  —  bring  — 
bring  me  a  glass  of  water." 

Alone  she  tried  to  stop  the  beating  of  her  heart.  "Do, 
foolish  heart,  stop  beating  so  hard.  He  may  hear  thee 
—  and  then  he  might  guess  —  and  never  come  again ! " 
She  walked  up  and  down  the  room.  "Foolish  little 
heart,  thou  dost  not  wish  to  betray  thy  secret  and  be 
scorned?  For  even  he  may  be  cruel  where  he  does  not 
love." 

Her  milk-sister  brought  her  the  glass  of  water;  and 
then  quietly  and  composedly  Malkhatoun  went  into 
her  work  cabinet. 

She  salaamed  to  the  floor,  and  he  salaamed  low.  She 
repeated  the  salutation,  and  so  did  he. 

"Be  seated,  my  cousin,"  she  said.  "I  am  very  happy 
to  see  you  here.  But,  my  cousin,  in  broad  daylight, 
ought  you  to  risk  your  life  thus?" 

"I  had  to  see  you,  Malkhatoun,  to-day.  I  had  great 
need  of  you." 

"You  command,  my  cousin,  and  I  obey." 

"  To-day  I  am  not  come  to  you  for  the  movement. 
I  come  to  see  you  on  a  personal  matter." 


MALKHATOUN  187 

Under  her  cloak  the  girl's  fingers  were  intertwined. 

"I  am  always  ready  to  serve  you." 

Orkhan  came  to  the  point  at  once. 

"Malkhatoun,  you  are  perhaps  too  secluded  and  too 
young  yet  to  know  that  there  is  a  time  when  a  man's 
heart  speaks  a  name,  and  his  whole  being  hears  no 
thing  else." 

Malkhatoun's  head  drooped.  A  pallor  overspread 
her  face.  She  could  hear  her  heart  beating,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  it  would  suffocate  her. 

"Malkhatoun,  my  heart  has  spoken.  I  love  a  wo 
man." 

He  drew  nearer  to  her,  and  for  a  brief  instant  a  mad 
hope  rushed  through  the  girl's  heart. 

"The  girl  I  love  is  an  American.  You  know  that  I 
cannot  marry  her  openly  without  endangering  her 
life,  —  but  marry  her  I  must." 

Gasping,  the  girl  battled  against  her  emotions.  They 
were  like  gigantic  waves  engulfing  her.  But  Orkhan 
saw  nothing  of  this.  He  went  on  talking  —  as  only  a 
lover  does,  when  he  speaks  of  her  he  has  just  begun  to 
love. 

The  unconsciousness  of  his  cruelty  alone  saved 
Malkhatoun.  Her  head  averted  she  listened  to  him, 
and  when  he  ceased  she  said,  naturally  and  quietly:  — 

"What  is  it  you  wish  of  me,  my  cousin?" 

"I  have  come  to  you  because  I  feel  that  you  will 
help  me.  Tell  me  what  I  must  do  to  get  her." 


188        IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

In  her  own  anguish,  his  coming  to  her  for  help  was 
some  comfort.  She  thought  awhile. 

"Can  she  not  wait  till  the  movement  is  successful? 
Then  you  can  marry  her  openly." 

"It  is  I  who  do  not  wish  to  wait.  I  love  her  —  I 
want  her  to  be  mine  at  once.  You  do  not  know  what 
love  is,  Malkhatoun,  or  you  would  not  ask/* 

The  girl  smiled.  He  did  not  know  the  greater  love 
which  could  wait  and  serve.  But  he  had  come  to  her 
for  help  and  she  must  give  it  to  him.  She  was  sur 
prised  how  rapidly  and  clearly  she  could  think. 

"It  is  risky  —  but  it  can  be  done.  I  can  buy  her  as 
a  slave  and  bring  her  here.  I  will  make  a  home  for  your 
wife  and  guard  her  for  you.  Of  course  you  could  not 
see  her  as  often  as  you  would  like;  but  she  would  be 
yours." 

Orkhan  kneeled  and  kissed  the  hem  of  the  girl's 
gown. 

"I  knew  you  would  help  me,  Malkhatoun.  How 
soon  can  you  make  the  arrangements?  What  is  your 
idea  of  the  way  you  will  buy  her?" 

"In  a  few  days  Miriam  Kalfa  is  going  to  the  Bulga 
rian  frontier,  where  a  number  of  Bulgarian,  Montene 
grin,  and  Servian  girls  will  be  brought  to  her  for  selec 
tion.  She  is  to  buy  a  considerable  number,  both  for  the 
Palace  and  for  some  of  our  houses.  The  Sultan  gave 
me  a  sum  of  money  ten  days  ago.  I  shall  ask  permis 
sion  to  buy  a  slave.  That  slave  could  be  she." 


MALKHATOUN  189 


"But  she  could  not  pass  for  any  of  the  women  of 
the  Balkans.  Her  golden  hair  and  blue  eyes  are  Anglo- 
Saxon.  She  walks  with  the  gait  of  a  free  nation.  One 
could  not  imagine  her  a  slave,  any  more  than  one 
could  imagine  the  dazzling  snow-capped  peak  of  a 
mountain  subject  to  the  yoke  of  the  husbandman. 
She  is  a  woman  different  from  our  women.  Her  bear 
ing  is  nobler,  she  — "  and  again  Orkhan  lost  himself 
in  the  remembrance  of  her  whom  he  loved.  Malkha- 
toun  shaded  her  face  with  her  hand  to  hide  from  Ork 
han  her  agony.  But  she  felt  that  hep  hand  trembled, 
and  by  a  superhuman  effort  she  mastered  herself  and 
met  his  eyes. 

"  You  must  let  me  have  time  to  think,  cousin.  You 
may  leave  me  now,  for  every  minute  that  you  stay 
here  is  dangerous  for  you.  When  I  arrive  at  a  plan  I 
will  let  you  know.  And  pray  be  careful  of  your  move 
ments.  Remember  that  much  depends  on  you." 

"I  have  a  talisman  which  keeps  me  safe,"  Orkhan 
said,  laughing. 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"Princess  Leila's  love  for  me." 

Malkhatoun  shook  her  head. 

"Don't  count  on  that,  Orkhan.  If  she  ever  discov 
ers  your  love  for  another  woman,  woe  to  you  and  to 
her.  A  love  like  Leila's  is  fiercest  brother  to  hatred,  — 
and  she  will  be  unmerciful  when  she  hates.  And  now, 
pray  go,  cousin,  and  let  me  think." 


190        IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

When  Orkhan  was  gone,  Malkhatoun  fell  face  down 
ward  on  the  couch.  The  effort  she  had  made  to  dis 
guise  her  feelings  in  his  presence  had  exhausted  her. 
She  wept  like  a  child,  but  even  in  her  misery  she  was 
saying  to  herself:  — 

"  He  came  to  me  —  to  ask  me  to  give  him  his  happi 
ness.  And  I  shall  give  it  to  him;  yes,  I  shall  give 
it  to  him." 

She  brought  the  ring  with  the  yellow  stone  fervently 
to  her  lips. 

"And  after  I  have  done  for  him  all  that  I  can,  then 
you,  little  drop,  will  come  to  give  me  rest  from  sor 
row." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE  MESSAGE  OP  THE  CYPRESS  TREES 

THE  red  disk  of  the  sun  had  just  disappeared  be 
hind  the  hills  of  the  Bosphorus,  leaving  the 
world  bathed  in  an  afterglow  of  yellow  light.  As  if  his 
departure  liberated  the  breezes,  they  came  rushing 
in  from  the  surrounding  seas,  and  Constantinople 
breathed  again.  One  could  almost  hear  her  sigh.  The 
blanket  of  heat  which  had  enveloped  her  all  day  long 
was  lifted,  and  the  children  of  the  inland  winds,  travel 
ing  over  hill  and  meadow,  were  caressing  and  soothing 
her  scorched  brow. 

"They  are  coming!"  cried  Elpis;  "the  winds  are 
coming!  Don't  you  feel  them,  dear?  There  is  life 
again  in  the  air." 

The  two  girls  had  been  lying  on  long  canvas  chairs 
under  a  venerable  oak  tree.  Millicent  raised  herself 
from  her  reclining  posture  to  a  sitting  one,  and  ex 
tended  her  arms  toward  the  river  to  feel  the  coming 
coolness  better. 

"It  has  been  a  horrible  day,  Elpis.  It  has  taken  all 
my  strength  and  vitality." 

A  softness  had  come  over  the  American  girl  in  the 
last  few  days.  In  her  eyes  there  was  that  pathetic  look 
one  sometimes  sees  in  dogs,  as  if  at  the  dumbness 


192         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

which  will  not  let  them  put  their  love  into  words.  She 
was  a  changed  Millicent :  her  self-confidence  was  gone, 
and  when  one  loses  self-confidence,  the  earth  on  which 
one  has  stood  with  such  assurance  loses  its  solidity. 

In  her  gentler  state  she  was  more  lovable.  When 
Elpis  spoke  to  her  she  gave  to  her  voice  all  the  ten 
derness  she  felt,  as  if  afraid  of  hurting  her  by  the 
slightest  hard  sound. 

Elpis  leaned  over  and  put  her  hand  caressingly  on 
Millicent's  arm. 

"Yes,  dear,  it  has  been  very  hot,  and  it  is  only  the 
fifth  day.  For  two  months  there  will  be  oppressive 
heat  in  the  daytime,  coolness  after  sunset.  I  believe 
that  in  July  and  August  Vulcan  transfers  his  forges 
and  his  cyclops  from  the  regions  below,  not  to  Mount 
Etna,  but  here  on  the  hills  around  Constantinople.  I 
can  feel  the  heat  of  his  furnaces  and  hear  the  noise  of 
his  anvils.  Still  the  gods  of  Olympus  are  good  to  give 
us  cool  nights." 

"I  understand  now,"  Millicent  moaned,  "why  peo 
ple  become  enervated  here.  The  heat  consumes  their 
energy  and  burns  up  their  ambition." 

"Perhaps.  Even  the  Turks  are  no  longer  the  war 
like  race  they  once  were.  It  only  took  a  few  genera 
tions  here  for  the  sultans  no  longer  to  lead  their  troops 
in  battle;  and  the  askirs  came  back  from  war  de 
feated." 

Elpis  of  ten  led  the  conversation  around  to  the  Turks 


MESSAGE  OF  THE   CYPRESS  TREES    193 

—  hoping  that  Millicent  might  speak.  But  the  Amer 
ican  girl  never  spoke.  She  kept  her  secret  to  herself; 
and  if  it  gnawed  at  her  heart,  and  gave  the  pathetic 
look  to  her  eyes,  she  at  least  thought  that  no  one 
knew  of  it. 

The  winds  now  were  bolder.  The  air  had  become 
cleared,  vivified. 

Millicent  rose  from  her  chair. 

"  I  think  I  shall  go  for  a  walk.  I  don't  believe  in  giv 
ing  in  to  the  climate." 

"Would  you  like  me  to  go  with  you?" 

"No.  I  am  a  poor  companion  to-day.  Perhaps  it 
would  do  me  good  to  walk  alone." 

"Yes,  I  think  it  would.  Only  take  a  wrap  with  you. 
You  know  there  is  treachery  in  these  cooling  winds." 

"No,  I  don't  want  anything." 

"Then  put  a  scarf  over  your  head.  It  is  not  proper 
here  to  go  bareheaded." 

Elpis  jumped  up  and  went  into  the  house,  and  re 
turned  with  a  black  scarf  embroidered  with  silver 
stars.  Affectionately  she  arranged  it  over  Millicent's 
hair,  and  fastened  it  on  top  with  a  half-moon  of 
gold. 

"What  an  adorable  picture  you  make,  Millicent, 
all  in  white,  and  now  that  black  over  your  hair.  You 
look  like  Diana  —  not  the  Diana  who  asked  for  celi 
bacy,  but  Diana,  who  perhaps  in  her  tramps  in  the 
woods  met  a  mortal  and  loved  him." 


194         IN   THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"Only  Diana  never  did,  you  know,"  Millicent  re 
plied  lightly,  yet  averting  her  face. 

"  Well,  good-bye,"  Elpis  said,  giving  the  other  a  pat. 
"Don't  stay  out  too  long." 

As  soon  as  her  friend  was  lost  to  sight,  the  Greek 
girl  clapped  her  hands.  When  she  had  gone  in  for  the 
scarf,  she  had  given  an  order,  and  now  a  man  re 
sponded  instantly  to  the  signal.  He  was  tall  and  sol 
dierly.  He  held  his  Albanian  cap  in  his  hand,  but  his 
attitude  was  not  that  of  a  servant,  but  of  an  officer 
toward  his  queen. 

Elpis  pointed  in  the  direction  Millicent  had  gone. 

"That  way,  Mitro,  and  as  you  are  to  see  that  no 
thing  happens  to  her,  she  is  not  to  know  that  you  fol 
low  her." 

The  man  gave  a  military  salute,  and  without  a  word 
obeyed. 

Elpis  stood  watching  his  catlike  tread,  which  is  char 
acteristic  of  the  Albanians,  be  they  Greeks  or  Turks. 
They  walk  as  if  they  are  climbing  the  hills  of  their 
brave  country  to  engage  in  guerrilla  warfare. 

"There  is  a  man!"  murmured  Elpis.  "He  is  brave 
and  uncivilized  —  I  wonder  how  many  Turks  he  has 
killed,  without  being  in  the  least  troubled  by  their 
ghosts.  If  half  the  Greeks  were  like  him,  we  should  be 
masters  here  to-day." 

With  her  hands  behind  her  back  she  paced  up  and 
down,  her  thoughts  again  on  Millicent. 


MESSAGE  OF  THE   CYPRESS  TREES    195 

"Be  brave,  child !"  she  whispered ;  "be  brave!  Don't 
let  the  son  of  Aphrodite  become  your  tyrant.  How 
hard  the  fight  comes  to  those  Puritans  —  I  suppose 
because  all  their  suppressed  generations  of  ancestors 
rise  within  them  in  rebellion.  My  poor  Millicent! 
Will  she  come  out  of  it  unharmed?" 

She  leaned  down  and  plucked  a  rose  from  its  stem, 
and  pulling  off  its  petals,  one  by  one,  asked:  "Will 
she?  Will  she  not?" 

Through  a  thick  hedge  of  little  pines  a  young  Greek 
appeared. 

"Will  who,  Miss  Elpis?"  he  asked,  an  acute  note  of 
jealousy  in  his  musical  voice. 

"Oh!  is  it  you,  Euripides?  Welcome,  my  friend," 
and  Elpis  held  out  her  rose-scented  hand  to  him. 

Dropping  on  one  knee,  he  bent  his  uncovered  head 
and  kissed  her  hand. 

"About  whom  were  you  asking?"  he  repeated  again 
jealously. 

"  If  you  were  a  more  careful  eavesdropper  you  would 
have  heard  me  say,  'Will  she?  Will  she  not?' 

Euripides  Stellos  made  a  slight  grimace,  even  while 
perceptible  relief  showed  in  his  eloquent  black  eyes. 

"A  woman!  You  are  always  thinking  about 
women." 

Elpis  clapped  her  hands,  and  to  the  old  butler  who 
appeared  she  said :  — 

"Bring  us  some  masticha,  some  bread,  olives,  and 


196         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

dried  fish.  And,  Euripides,  let 's  pull  the  chairs  out  in 
the  open." 

Even  before  the  butler  reappeared,  Elpis's  old  nurse 
came  out  and  covered  her  with  a  bournous.  She  took 
her  seat  at  some  little  distance  from  the  girl  she  had 
nursed.  She  could  not  hear  the  conversation,  but  she 
could  keep  an  eye  on  her  darling.  Calypso,  like  Mitro, 
was  primitive. 

"Why  do  you  always  think  of  women?"  the  young 
man  demanded. 

"I  find  them  more  interesting,  for  one  thing." 

"And  for  another?" 

"More  capable  of  aspirations." 

"  More  capable  of  aspirations !  And  have  I  not  been 
aspiring  ever  since  you  grew  to  be  a  woman?" 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  force  of  his  feeling. 

She  felt  sorry  for  him,  yet  a  whimsical  smile  came  to 
her  lips. 

"  I  mean  *  aspiration '  to  help  humanity  —  not  to  get 
something  for  one's  self." 

"But  when  one  begins  to  aspire,  one  first  aspires  for 
one's  self,  and  then  for  others.  When  you  fill  my  heart 
and  my  soul  and  my  mind,  how  can  I  think  of  'human 
ity  '  ?  Surely  if  one's  home  were  on  fire,  one  could  not 
think  of  his  neighbor's  house.  Elpis,  I  love  you  —  you 
know  I  have  loved  you  for  the  last  five  years.  I  have 
waited,  dreamed,  hoped  that  some  day  you  would  be 
mine.  Will  you  never  learn  to  love  me,  Elpis?" 


MESSAGE  OF  THE   CYPRESS  TREES    197 

The  girl  stretched  her  hand  over  the  back  of  her 
chair  and  plucked  a  rose  from  a  bush.  She  brought  it 
to  her  face  and  inhaled  its  perfume,  slowly,  deliber 
ately. 

The  young  man  watched  her,  worship  in  his  eyes; 
but  his  attitude  was  that  of  a  falconer. 

"I  like  you,  Euripides,  but  I  do  not  wish  to  marry 

you." 

"But  why?  why?  why?"  cried  the  young  man.  "I 
am  of  your  class;  I  am  young;  and  Niko  approves  of 
me." 

"  And  you  are  a  good  boy  —  rich  and  handsome." 

"Well,  my  money  does  not  count.  You  have  much 
yourself." 

"Yes,  it  does;  for  no  one  could  accuse  you  of  marry 
ing  me  for  my  money." 

There  was  mockery  in  her  voice. 

"Elpis!  Could  any  one,  who  knows  you,  think  of 
anything  else  except  you  yourself?  I  love  you!"  he 
cried  again,  as  if  the  constant  repetition  of  his  plea 
would  at  last  reach  her  heart. 

But  she  only  shook  her  head.  She  knew  that  there 
were  many  girls,  less  fortunate  than  herself,  who  had 
to  marry,  in  order  to  live.  And  she  felt  thankful  for  her 
riches,  which  made  it  possible  for  her  to  choose  whether 
to  accept  a  suitor  or  not. 

From  the  tray  which  the  butler  brought  her  she  took 
a  small  decanter,  and  pouring  a  little  of  its  contents 


198         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

into  a  glass,  she  filled  it  up  with  water  and  presented 
it  to  her  guest.  She  prepared  another  glassful  for  her 
self,  and  held  it  up  to  the  light  and  watched  its  opales 
cent  colors.  The  butler  placed  his  tray  on  a  stool  and 
went  away. 

The  girl  touched  the  masticha  with  her  lips,  and  in 
haled  its  aromatic  flavor. 

"What  an  infantile  drink!"  she  said.  "It  is  indeed 
the  emblem  of  our  race." 

"You  do  not  call  our  race  infantile,  Elpis?"  the 
young  man  protested. 

"Not  infantile  in  the  sense  of  being  on  the  threshold 
of  life,  because  that  contains  a  future,  and  is  rich  in 
promise.  But  infantile  of  the  second  kind,  which  has 
no  other  hope  but  the  grave  and  oblivion.  My  dear 
Euripides,  there  was  a  time  when  the  Greek  youths 
did  not  pine  away  for  love.  They  accomplished  deeds 
which  made  their  fatherland  immortal.  In  this  way 
they  won  the  love  of  the  maidens." 

"Those  were  other  times,"  said  he  rather  feebly. 

"And  what  has  changed  the  times?  "Elpis  cried  pas 
sionately.  "Surely  there  are  as  great  deeds  to-day 
waiting  to  be  done  as  those  accomplished  by  former 
youths.  It  is  the  men  who  have  changed,  not  the 
times.  Listen,  the  air  is  filled  with  the  call  for  our 
youths.  Listen!" 

Elpis  leaned  forward,  her  forefinger  raised,  her  lips 
parted,  her  head  half  turned,  like  some  young  priest- 


MESSAGE   OF  THE  CYPRESS  TREES    199 

ess  who  hears  the  call  of  the  gods.  And  breathless  un 
der  her  spell,  Euripides  also  strained  his  ears  for  the 
call. 

But  the  only  sound  that  came  to  him  was  the  sough 
ing  of  the  wind. 

"It  is  the  cypress  trees," he  said.  "The  wind  is  blow 
ing  through  them." 

In  a  rapt  voice,  like  that  of  the  ancient  vestals  of  the 
Oracles,  she  replied :  — 

"It  is  the  cypress  trees,  Euripides,  but  they  are  de 
livering  a  message.  Listen!  Don't  you  hear?  The 
souls  of  the  great  dead  Greeks  are  speaking.  Listen! 
Don't  you  hear?  —  'Rise,  slave  Greeks,  rise!'  they 
say." 

A  pallor  overspread  the  features  of  Euripides  Stel- 
los.  A  heaving  sigh  raised  his  chest.  Voices  mute  till 
then  whispered  half-forgotten  patriotic  songs.  Some 
thing  immortal  stirred  within  his  self-indulgent  soul. 
For  the  moment  he,  too,  was  a  hero. 

"What  can  we  do?  What  must  we  do?  We  are  but 
a  downtrodden  race." 

"  We  are  that  because  we  deserve  it.  We  have  intel 
ligence  enough,  patriotism  enough:  what  we  lack  is 
will,  courage,  and  clean  living  on  the  part  of  our  men. 
Let  us  wake  up,  Euripides.  Let  us  throw  off  the  Mus 
sulman  yoke.  We  have  worn  it  too  long.  We  were  con 
quered  by  others  before;  but  they  passed  off  the  face 
of  the  earth  —  and  we  still  live.  Race  after  race  has 


200        IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

vanished  —  and  we  remain  because  those  who  first 
gave  us  life  intermarried  with  the  gods." 

"  Yes  —  and  once  we  did  succeed  against  the 
Turks,"  he  put  in  eagerly,  "succeeded  with  small 
irregular  bands,  against  an  army  stronger  than  it  is 
now." 

"But  what  have  we  done  since  we  wrenched  back 
that  small  part  of  our  old  empire?  Better  never  have 
succeeded  than  have  shown  the  world  how  little 
worthy  of  freedom  we  were.  What  have  we  done  in 
that  free  Greece  in  the  almost  hundred  years  of  its 
freedom?  Look  at  our  government!  Look  at  our 
army!  Think  of  the  war  of  1897.  What  a  disgrace  it 
was!" 

"But  surely,  Elpis,  you  know  that  we  were  be 
trayed.  The  King  made  war  because  the  Greeks  forced 
him  to;  but  secretly  he  was  keeping  his  promise  to  the 
Powers  that  there  should  be  no  fighting.  The  army 
marched  out,  but  the  only  order  his  son  commanding 
it  ever  gave  was,  Retreat!  —  always  Retreat! '' 

"And  if  the  head  of  our  army  was  the  son  of  the  son 
of  a  Danish  king,  were  not  the  officers  Greeks?  Why 
did  they  not  kill  their  dishonorable  prince  and  fight 
—  fight  till  they  had  won,  or  were  dead?  After  that 
war,  we  might  have  cried,  'All  is  lost  —  except  the 
army!'  " 

The  young  man  hung  his  head. 

Elpis  continued:  "There  are  millions  of  Greeks  liv- 


MESSAGE  OF  THE  CYPRESS  TREES    201 

ing  to-day,  who  are  proud  to  call  themselves  Hellenes. 
What  are  they  doing  for  Hellas?  Either  they  misspend 
their  youth,  or  they  devote  it  solely  to  moneymaking. 
Ah!  yes,  we  are  always  rich,  wherever  we  are.  We 
used  to  intermarry  with  the  gods  of  Olympus.  Now 
the  only  god  whose  blood  flows  in  our  veins  is  that  of 
Mammon." 

"  Hullo,  Elpis !  Hullo,  Euripides ! "  cried  Niko  Papa- 
righopoulos,  coming  toward  them. 

He  became  conscious  of  something  unusual  in  the 
atmosphere,  and  looked  affectionately  at  the  young 
man,  who  was  his  favorite  suitor  for  the  hand  of  his 
sister.  Had  it  come  at  last,  he  thought  to  himself? 
Had  the  citadel  fallen?  Aloud  he  said:  — 

"Sis,  you  look  like  a  priestess  of  the  Temple  of  Love. 
Are  you  about  to  unbolt  its  doors?" 

"I  am  only  a  mortal  standing  outside  that  temple's 
door.  It  is  a  force  from  within  which  must  open  it." 

"What  were  you  talking  about?" 

"  We  were  only  listening  to  the  words  of  the  cypress 
trees." 

"And  they  were  saying?" 

"  I  think  they  have  become  mundane  and  frivolous, 
brother,  those  ancient  cypresses.  And  they  were  sing 
ing  the  song  of  our  old  cynical  bard:  *  Enjoy!  Enjoy 
life,  while  there  is  time; for  time  flies  fast.'" 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THERE    IS   NO   GOD   BUT   GOD 

MILLICENT  walked  away  rapidly  from  the 
Paparighopoulos  grounds.  Her  mind  was 
filled  with  fear.  Fate  had  taken  a  hand  in  the  game 
and  was  forcing  her  to  stay  here  where  she  might 
again  meet  the  man  she  most  dreaded  meeting.  Yet 
this  was  not  the  fear  which  oppressed  her :  it  was  terror 
at  the  rejoicing  in  her  own  heart  that  she  was  forced 
to  stay. 

The  days  had  grown  hotter  and  longer.  In  the  cool 
of  the  evening  her  hosts  took  her  to  see  everything 
that  was  interesting  in  Constantinople.  They  told 
her  bits  of  its  history  when  it  had  been  Byzantium, 
or  the  Eastern  Empire,  and  of  the  outrages  it  had  suf 
fered  under  the  short  rapacious  sway  of  the  Crusaders 
and  again  after  it  had  fallen  under  the  Turkish  yoke. 

Millicent  gave  her  attention,  and  tried  to  give  her 
interest.  She  tried  to  appear  the  mentally  alert  girl 
she  had  always  been ;  but  inwardly  she  was  possessed 
by  a  strange  passion,  which  made  her  every  day  more 
fearful  of  herself. 

To  Elpis,  Millicent  never  spoke  of  Orkhan,  and  the 
Greek  girl,  obeying  the  unexpressed  wish  of  her 
guest,  did  not  mention  him,  although  she  often  led 


THERE   IS  NO  GOD  BUT  GOD       203 

the  conversation  to  subjects  that  would  have  made  it 
natural  to  speak  of  him.  She  hoped  that  Millicent 
would  confide  in  her,  and  receive  the  comfort  which 
comes  from  giving  utterance  to  our  troubles ;  but  Mil 
licent  never  spoke.  To  herself  she  fiercely  declared 
that  she  would  be  the  conqueror  of  herself,  no  matter 
how  severe  the  battle  might  be.  Yet  as  time  passed, 
she  did  not  grow  more  confident.  Indeed,  she  found 
herself  incapable  of  thinking  of  anything  except  Ork- 
han.  At  times  she  even  gave  herself  up  willingly  to 
the  intoxicating  memory  of  the  few  moments  when 
nothing  had  mattered  except  the  fact  that  she  loved 
him.  She  grew  thinner  and  paler,  and  did  not  carry 
her  head  with  its  former  independent  bearing.  She 
became  humbler  from  her  repeated  failures  to  be  mis 
tress  of  herself  and  of  her  thoughts.  After  each  defeat 
she  gathered  her  forces  together  with  dogged  cour 
age,  only  to  suffer  defeat,  again  and  again. 

Environment,  atmospheric  and  social,  had  much  to 
do  with  this.  In  Turkey  the  climate  in  summer  for 
bids  wholesome  exercise,  and  the  ruling  race  looks 
upon  love  as  the  one  great  element  in  life.  This  atti 
tude  seems  to  be  in  the  very  air.  The  Greek  women 
whom  she  met  at  the  Paparighopoulos  villa,  and  those 
she  met  outside  with  Elpis,  seemed  to  have  but  one 
thought  —  love.  Poor  Millicent  was  never  permitted 
to  forget  this  great  force  for  a  single  day.  Had  she 
been  in  her  own  country,  where  men  and  women  live 


204         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

a  less  sensuous,  a  more  intellectual  and  out-of-door 
life,  and  where  even  the  greatest  heat  is  not  so  devoid 
of  a  bracing  quality,  she  would  probably  have  found 
her  struggle  less  tragic,  more  commonplace  and  hu 
man.  Now,  in  her  overwrought  condition,  she  thought 
too  much  about  her  heart  and  the  primeval  demands 
of  life. 

Orkhan  Effendi  had  not  come  to  the  house  since 
the  fateful  day  when  he  had  kissed  her  and  set  her 
heart  on  fire.  Yet  every  step  she  heard  filled  her  with 
apprehension,  lest  it  should  be  his  —  and  each  time 
that  it  was  not,  cold  disappointment  took  the  place  of 
apprehension.  Sometimes  she  told  herself  that  she 
wished  to  see  him,  to  prove  to  herself  that  she  would 
be  strong  in  his  presence.  Again  she  entertained  no 
doubts  but  that  she  was  in  love  with  Orkhan  the 
Turk.  But  how  much  was  that  love  to  rule  her  life? 

"When  you  will  send  for  me  I  will  come,"  he  had 
said,  certain  that  she  would  send  for  him.  Now,  as  she 
walked  up  the  picturesque  hills  of  the  Bosphorus, 
she  flushed  with  indignation  at  the  supposition  that 
she,  Millicent  Grey,  should  send  for  him  to  come.  His 
arrogant  assumption  filled  her  with  rage. 

She  made  an  effort  to  change  the  current  of  her 
thoughts,  to  think  of  the  things  about  her.  She  forced 
her  attention  to  the  wild  flowers  growing  by  the  road 
side.  She  stooped  and  picked  a  kind  of  bluebell,  and 
another  of  an  exquisite  pale  green,  —  fashioned  as 


THERE  IS  NO  GOD  BUT  GOD       205 

delicately  as  if  Nature  were  producing  only  this  one 
masterpiece,  and  not  bringing  out  millions  of  them. 
The  freshness  of  the  evening  wind,  the  exercise,  the 
peace  which  reigned  over  the  woods,  and  the  touch  of 
flowers  took  away  in  a  measure  the  fierceness  of  Milli- 
cent's  mood.  A  sense  of  happiness  stole  over  her,  and 
she  viewed  her  love  for  Orkhan  with  more  tolerance. 
Was  it  really  so  horrid  as  she  made  it  out?  He  was  a 
Turk,  it  is  true,  but  every  one  said  he  was  a  fine  man, 
and  he  loved  her  as  much  as  she  loved  him. 

She  abandoned  herself  again  to  the  memory  of 
those  few  minutes  in  which  she  had  been  a  mere  wo 
man,  answering  the  call  of  her  man.  How  utterly  she 
had  loved  him  during  those  few  minutes !  What  if  she 
were  to  seek  more  of  that  happiness?  WThat  if  she 
were  to  become  for  all  her  life  a  mere  woman,  loving 
her  man?  What  if  she  were  to  acknowledge  herself 
conquered  and  marry  Orkhan?  The  thought  thrilled 
her:  to  be  his  wife;  to  live  by  his  side  year  after  year; 
she  and  he  comrades  at  work  and  at  play!  The  wo 
man,  now  reigning,  regarded  the  union  as  even  high- 
minded.  Would  it  not  be  the  best  thing  for  the  work 
for  which  she  had  come  here?  By  becoming  the  wife 
of  Orkhan  the  Turk,  she  could  come  close  to  Turkish 
women,  learn  to  understand  them,  and  bring  to  them 
the  aspirations  she  wished  to  bring. 

In  spite  of  the  steep  walking,  she  went  faster,  yet 
she  could  not  walk  fast  enough  to  keep  up  with  the 


206         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

flying  thoughts  of  her  brain.  At  the  summit  she 
stopped  and  leaned  against  a  tree,  facing  but  not  seeing 
the  wonderful  panorama  of  hills  and  water  and  city 
before  her.  The  long  twilight  had  spread  its  wings 
over  the  banks  of  the  Bosphorus.  The  hills  were  tinted 
with  the  yellow,  green,  and  pink  of  the  afterglow.  The 
minarets,  slim  and  graceful,  and  ever  aspiring  to  be 
the  first  at  the  feet  of  Allah,  were  beckoning  to  the  girl. 
She  breathed  deeply,  and  gradually  a  peace  descended 
upon  her,  and  she  ceased  from  her  troubled  thoughts. 

On  the  top  of  a  minaret  a  muezzin  appeared  to  call 
the  faithful  to  prayer.  His  voice  carried  sweet  and 
melodious  across  the  housetops  and  reached  up  even 
to  Millicent.  She  listened.  She  knew  what  he  was 
saying;  for  Elpis  had  explained  the  words  to  her: 
"There  is  no  other  god  but  God";  and  a  pang  shot 
through  the  girl's  heart.  Of  late  she  had  learned  to 
pray  —  not  the  prayers  one  says  as  a  matter  of  course, 
remnant  habit  of  childhood,  but  the  prayers  which  the 
soul  makes  for  itself  in  its  need. 

The  young  muezzin  continued  chanting  "There  is 
no  god  but  God,"  but  his  words  brought  no  comfort  to 
Millicent.  "One  God!"  she  thought,  "there  must  be 
millions  of  gods.  Each  of  us  has  a  god  in  him,  which  is 
his  highest  ideal;  and  this  god  clashes  with  all  the 
other  gods." 

While  she  thought  of  gods  and  of  men,  the  yellow 
light  little  by  little  was  succeeded  by  a  soft  gray, 


THERE  IS  NO  GOD  BUT  GOD       207 

which  hung  over  the  landscape  like  a  light  mist,  mes 
senger  of  the  approach  of  night. 

Reluctantly  Millicent  started  down.  Already  she 
had  stayed  longer  than  she  ought.  Halfway  down  the 
hill  was  a  grove  of  young  cypress  trees.  When  she 
reached  it,  the  caprice  took  her  to  go  through  it,  al 
though  Elpis  had  cautioned  her  against  these  groves, 
so  innocent  in  appearance,  yet  so  dangerous  after 
nightfall.  Millicent  was  in  no  mood  for  caution.  She 
plunged  straight  into  the  grove.  The  slender  summits 
of  the  cypresses  at  once  shut  her  off  from  outside 
view.  It  was  darker  here,  and  a  foreboding  came  over 
her.  Her  pride  would  not  let  her  turn  back,  but  she 
walked  on  as  fast  as  she  could  through  the  thick  trees. 

Presently  she  thought  she  heard  footsteps.  She 
hurried  on,  anxious  to  reach  a  clearing  which  she 
knew  to  be  not  far  away.  She  was  sure  now  that  some 
one  wras  following  her.  At  this  instant  her  scarf  caught 
on  one  of  the  trees. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

"AND  THE  STARS  BE  OUR  WITNESS" 

SHE  had  to  stop  to  disentangle  herself,  and  heard 
her  pursuer  forcing  his  way  through  the  cypresses 
only  a  few  yards  away.  Facing  around,  she  waited. 
Whoever  it  was  she  preferred  meeting  him  to  the 
terrors  of  the  unknown. 

An  instant  later  she  made  out,  through  the  dusk, 
the  figure  of  Orkhan  Effendi.  A  mad  joy  at  sight  of 
him  was  her  first  feeling  —  even  stronger  than  the 
feeling  of  relief.  Then  she  turned  and  ran  off  as  fast 
as  she  could. 

His  voice  called  after  her:  "Do  not  be  afraid,  Milli- 
cent.  It  is  I,  Orkhan." 

She  stopped,  ashamed  of  herself,  and  glad  that  he 
had  mistaken  her  fright.  As  he  approached,  all  other 
feelings  died  out  of  her  except  simple  happiness  at 
being  near  him. 

"Did  I  frighten  you?"  he  asked. 

She  nodded. 

"You  know,"  he  said,  in  the  tone  of  a  grown  person 
speaking  to  a  child,  "you  ought  not  to  come  into  this 
grove  by  yourself.  It  is  not  safe." 

She  did  not  reply.  She  was  half  leaning  against  a 
cypress,  and  trembling  like  a  frightened  child. 


AND  THE   STARS  BE  OUR  WITNESS    209 

He  held  out  his  arms  to  her.  She  did  not  move.  He 
waited  an  instant;  then,  dropping  his  arms,  took  one 
of  her  hands  in  his,  and  began  to  tell  her  what  his  love 
for  her  meant  to  him.  His  words,  mingling  with  the 
aroma  of  the  cypresses,  seemed  to  penetrate  her  very 
soul.  Her  hand  was  lying  unresisting  in  his,  and  the 
intoxication  of  surrender  was  upon  her.  His  very 
gentleness  added  to  his  power.  His  not  attempting  to 
kiss  her,  or  to  take  her  in  his  arms,  made  her  grateful 
to  him;  for  she  was  fully  conscious  of  how  little  she 
could  resist  him.  He  led  her  out  of  the  grove,  to  the 
bank  of  the  river,  flowing  far  below  them.  There  he 
turned  and  took  one  of  her  hands  in  each  of  his. 

"Millicent,"  he  said,  "I  take  you  to  be  mine,  and 
the  stars  above  and  the  river  below  are  our  witnesses. 
Henceforth  you  belong  to  me  and  to  me  alone." 

The  tone  of  the  man-master  grated  on  the  mood  of 
surrender  in  which  she  had  been.  She  pushed  him 
gently  from  her. 

"You  say  that  I  love  you,  and  it  is  true  that  there  is 
one  side  of  me  which  longs  for  nothing  except  to  be 
yours,  but  — " 

"  But  that  is  the  true  womanly  side ! "  he  exclaimed, 
interrupting  her;  and  in  spite  of  the  tense  emotion 
which  held  them  both,  Millicent  could  not  help  smil 
ing  at  the  absolute  conviction  in  his  voice. 

"And  the  other  side  of  me,"  she  asked,  —  perhaps 
with  the  hope  that  he  would  succeed  in  convincing 


210         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

her,  —  "the  persistent,  'unwomanly  side,'  which  bids 
me  not  to  mate  with  a  man  of  another  faith  and  other 
ideals  than  mine?" 

"But  the  woman  always  gives  up  all  to  follow  the 
man  she  loves,"  he  cried  eagerly. 

'Yes,  if  she  follows  her  instincts  blindly.  Oh,  Ork- 
han,  I  cannot  do  that." 

Her  scruples  seemed  very  little  things  to  the  Turk. 
With  a  wave  of  his  hand  he  brushed  them  awray. 

"Queen  of  my  hours,  why  waste  time  in  profitless 
discussion,  like  a  musty  lawyer  in  a  court?  Allah  gives 
us  this  chance  to  be  happy.  Let  us  marry  and  think 
no  more  of  the  petty  differences  between  us." 

"Oh!  cannot  I  make  you  understand?"  she  wailed. 
"A  part  of  me  loves  you;  but  another  part  refuses 
to  accept  this  physical  attraction  as  enough  —  un 
less  there  shall  be  other,  more  lasting  sympathies 
to  draw  us  together."  Earnestly  she  looked  into  his 
eyes.  "Do  you  believe  this  love  of  ours  would  last 
long?" 

"Everything  endures  so  long  as  Allah  ordains,"  he 
answered  solemnly. 

His  fatalism  struck  the  wrong  note  in  her.  How 
easily  fatalism  could  excuse  anything  which  might 
come  after.  She  glanced  down  at  the  dark  Bosphorus 
below  them.  In  some  ways  it  was  as  if  they  stood  on 
opposite  sides  of  this,  instead  of  on  the  same. 

"To  understand  the  gulf  which  lies  between  us," 


AND  THE  STARS  BE  OUR  WITNESS    211 

she  went  on,  "I  must  tell  you  that  my  object  in  com 
ing  to  your  country  was  to  help  your  women  to  free 
themselves  from  the  bondage  in  which  you  Turkish 
men  keep  them." 

" We  do  not  keep  them  in  bondage,"  he  cried.  "We 
only  cherish  them  and  guard  them  from  all  eyes  ex 
cept  our  own.  They  are  our  most  precious  possessions. 
We  go  to  them  like  a  lover,  leaving  the  cares  of  the 
world  behind,  and  seeking  paradise  at  their  side.  We 
surround  them  with  the  best  the  world  can  give,  and 
deny  ourselves  so  that  they  may  have  more.  It  is  not 
bondage,  but  a  sanctuary  we  have  created  for  them. 
Ah,  my  beloved,  sultana  of  my  soul,  what  is  there  more 
in  the  world  than  the  love  of  a  man  and  a  woman !  Do 
you  not  feel  the  love  you  have  for  me  to  be  the  strong 
est  thing  in  you?" 

Very  slowly  the  girl  nodded. 

The  man  went  on  with  triumphant  eagerness:  — 

"In  your  country  you  have  learned  to  think  wrongly 
of  us  and  our  customs.  They  have  taught  you  that 
there  are  other  things  in  life  besides  love.  But  there  is 
nothing!  Love  alone  glorifies  the  world.  Put  all  else 
aside,  and  come  to  me,  my  bride.  Be  one  of  our  wo 
men  and  you  shall  know  whether  there  is  other  happi 
ness  than  loving  and  being  loved." 

He  had  again  enthralled  her,  and  when  he  held 
out  his  arms  and  drew  her  to  him,  she  again  forgot 
all  except  that  they  loved  one  another.  She  felt 


212        IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

that  the  battle  was  over,  that  he  had  won.  Yes,  she 
would  marry  him,  and  live  for  him  —  and  for  him 
alone. 

"And  now,  let  me  hear  you  say  that  you  will  be  my 
wife  as  soon  as  I  can  make  a  home  for  you,"  he  urged, 
as  if  divining  her  thoughts. 

Although  she  had  just  said  this  to  herself,  she  could 
not  say  it  to  him.  The  struggle  was  not  entirely  over, 
as  she  had  thought  —  had  hoped  it  was. 

Very  gently  she  drew  away  from  him. 

"Will  you  take  me  now  to  Elpis?" 

"Tell  me  once  that  you  love  me.'* 

"Not  yet,"  she  pleaded.  "Be  generous,  and  take 
me  to  Elpis  now." 

"I  shall  never  be  anything  except  generous  to  you, 
Millicent,"  he  replied. 

A  short  distance  from  the  Paparighopoulos  villa  he 
left  her.  She  found  Elpis  walking  up  and  down  out 
side  the  house,  with  her  nurse. 

The  Greek  girl  rushed  up  to  her. 

"Oh!  my  dear  one,  how  you  have  frightened  me." 

She  threw  her  arms  around  Millicent,  but  Millicent 
drew  back  from  her. 

"Wait  till  I  speak  with  you,  Elpis.  —  But  now  I 
must  hurry.  Have  I  time  to  dress  for  dinner?" 

Elpis  scanned  her  face  anxiously. 

"Yes,  just  time.  Shall  I  come  up  with  you?" 

"No;  please  to  wait  till  after  dinner." 


AND  THE  STARS  BE  OUR  WITNESS    213 

She  ran  upstairs.  The  other  watched  her  till  she 
was  out  of  sight,  then  turned  to  her  nurse :  — 

"Tell  Mitro  to  come  to  me  as  soon  as  he  gets  back. 
I  shall  be  in  the  little  den." 

A  few  minutes  later,  Mitro  strode  into  the  den,  his 
Albanian  hat  in  his  hand,  and  saluted.  Without  wait 
ing  for  his  mistress  to  speak,  he  asked  savagely :  — 

"Am  I  to  allow  her  to  be  spoken  to?" 

Elpis  considered  for  a  moment;  then  with  a  shrug 
dismissed  her  scruples. 

"Who  spoke  to  her?" 

"Orkhan  Effendi.  He  took  her  in  his  arms  —  and 
she  let  him.  He  kissed  her  —  she  a  Christian  woman, 
and  he  a  Turk!" 

Mitro  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  three  times  over 
his  breast;  but  the  light  which  burned  in  his  eyes  was 
lighted  at  the  forge  of  the  Devil,  not  at  the  altar  of 
God. 

"Am  I  to  let  him,  Miss  Elpis,  or  am  I  to  kill 
him?  "  and  as  he  spoke  he  put  his  hand  to  his  Albanian 
girdle. 

Elpis  examined  the  pattern  of  the  Persian  rug  for  a 
few  seconds;  then  raising  her  luminous  brown  eyes, 
answered  slowly :  — 

"N-o-o,  not  yet." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THE   ROCKET   IN   THE   SKY 

IT  was  late  that  night  before  the  guests  whom 
Righo  had  brought  out  with  him  went  away. 
Millicent  went  to  her  room,  where  she  might  drop 
the  conventional  personality  which  had  been  talking, 
and  laughing,  and  discussing  all  the  evening,  and 
become  the  human  being,  to  think  and  to  suffer. 

Elpis  was  not  long  in  coming  to  her.  She  found 
Millicent  sitting  by  the  window,  fully  dressed. 

"Not  yet  in  bed?"  she  exclaimed. 

"No;  I  was  waiting  for  you." 

The  Greek  girl  came  over  and  put  her  arm  about  her. 

"What  is  it,  dearest?"  she  asked. 

"Elpis,  if  you  found  that  you  were  in  love  with  a 
Turk,  would  you  marry  him?" 

Elpis  showed  no  surprise  at  the  abrupt  question. 

"I  am  a  Greek,  dear.  There  is  a  wide  river  which 
divides  the  Greeks  from  the  Turks." 

"A  river  can  be  crossed." 

"Yes,  an  ordinary  river;  but  that  which  flows  be 
tween  the  Greeks  and  their  Ottoman  conquerors  is  a 
river  of  blood.  Too  many  dead  men,  too  many  out 
raged  women,  too  many  slaughtered  children  lie  at 
the  bottom  of  that  river.  Were  we  ever  to  attempt  to 


THE  ROCKET  IN  THE  SKY         215 

cross  it,  it  would  rise  up  and  engulf  us.  No,  the  Greeks 
and  the  Turks  may  live  side  by  side,  but  intermarry 
willingly  —  never!" 

A  silence  fell  upon  the  two  girls.  Elpis  took  Mini- 
cent's  hand  and  kissed  it. 

At  that  moment  a  rocket  shot  up  into  the  heavens. 
At  its  zenith  it  burst  into  a  mass  of  light,  then  sank 
downward  with  ever-lessening  brilliancy,  till  it  was 
lost  again  in  the  dark. 

"How  glorious  it  was  —  and  now  it  is  gone,"  said 
Elpis  softly.  "It  was  like  a  great  human  emotion." 

Rocket  after  rocket  illumined  the  night.  The  girls 
watched  them  without  speaking,  till  the  last  was  gone. 
Then  Millicent  said  bravely :  — 

"Elpis,  I  do  not  understand  what  has  come  over 
me.  I  am  no  longer  the  same  person  I  was  when  I  left 
my  country." 

"Is  it  Orkhan?"  Elpis  asked. 

The  other  nodded. 

"Are  you  going  to  marry  him,  Millicent  dear?" 

Millicent  shuddered. 

"I  do  not  know.  I  do  not  want  to  —  not  now.  He 
says  I  am  —  and  with  him  I  am  powerless." 

Elpis  had  been  furtively  watching  Millicent  all  the 
evening.  She  did  not  wish  her  to  marry  Orkhan;  yet 
she  feared  lest  any  opposition  would  only  give  force  to 
what  she  wished  to  kill.  She  was  not  without  Greek 
diplomacy,  and  her  language  became  Ulyssean. 


216        IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"There  are  only  two  things  for  which  we  strive, 
Millicent:  happiness,  and  our  ideals.  The  one  is  real, 
the  other  we  know  can  never  be  realized.  If  you  are 
happy  in  your  love  for  Orkhan,  why  not  take  it? 
Happiness  is  too  precious  to  throw  away,  —  and  you 
are  not  a  Greek  girl :  your  race  mixes  without  repug 
nance  with  all  white  races  —  and  Orkhan  is  a  glorious 
specimen  of  the  Turk." 

"Would  you  marry  Orkhan  yourself,  if  you  were 
not  a  Greek,  and  were  in  love  with  him?" 

"I  can  never  feel  except  as  a  Greek.  If  the  love  you 
have  for  Orkhan  lifts  you  above  everything  else  — 
take  it.  It  may  be  worth  even  the  sacrifice  of  ideals." 

"But  it  does  not  lift  me  above  everything  else.  I 
am  not  even  sure  it  is  the  best  in  me  which  loves  him. 
Why  do  you  not  advise  me?" 

"Millicent  dear,  you  must  decide  for  yourself.  Do 
not  decide  too  quickly.  There  may  be  a  long  battle. 
When  it  is  over,  the  battle-field  will  be  strewn  with 
dead,  dead  whose  names  will  be  Ideals  —  or  Senses." 

The  girls  looked  disconsolately  out  into  the  night, 
now  lighted  by  the  waning  moon,  just  rising  above  the 
horizon.  It  was  a  slender  moon,  but  not  as  it  had  been 
when  a  jaunty  crescent.  Time  seemed  to  have  worn  it 
away. 

"That  moon  looks  as  if  it  also  had  been  through  a 
battle,  and  had  come  out  pretty  well  battered,"  Milli 
cent  said. 


THE   ROCKET  IN  THE  SKY          217 

Both  girls  laughed,  and  the  laugh  somehow  helped 
Millicent. 

"What  if  I  were  to  go  away  to-morrow  from  Con 
stantinople?"  she  suggested. 

"A  good  plan  for  a  coward  —  but  you  are  no  cow 
ard.  If  you  go  away  while  the  battle  wages,  you  may 
carry  with  you  an  incurable  regret.  Better  stay  and 
fight  it  out.  If  it  is  too  strong  for  you,  marry  Orkhan 
and  be  a  good  wife  to  him.  But  fight  out  your  battle 
fairly  and  squarely;  only  when  it  is  finished,  be  mag 
nanimous  to  the  victor  —  and  bury  the  vanquished. 
Now  I  am  going  to  put  you  to  bed,  and  remember, 
whatever  happens,  you  will  always  have  a  little  mother 
in  me." 

After  Elpis  had  tucked  Millicent  in  her  bed,  as  if 
she  were  a  little  child,  she  went  into  her  own  room 
and  stood  before  the  ikonostas,  peopled  with  the  ikons 
which  had  belonged  to  many  generations  of  her  family. 

She  remained  erect,  as  the  Greeks  do  when  praying. 
She  was  quite  aware  that  she  was  still  half -pagan,  yet 
in  her  need  she  always  went  and  stood  before  these 
images  of  the  saints  and  prayed  to  her  Christian  God. 
•  Her  prayer  was  long  to-night,  but  it  was  not  for 
herself  or  her  people.  She  prayed  for  this  other  girl 
who  had  come  into  her  life;  and  when  she  had  finished, 
her  heart  felt  lighter,  as  it  must  when  one  intrusts 
one's  troubles  to  the  great  incomprehensible  force 
which  rules  the  universe. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

BEHIND  HASSAN'S  SHOP 

IN  one  of  the  niches  of  the  labyrinthian  markets  of 
Stamboul  was  a  shop.  Its  owner,  a  Turk,  was 
forever  sitting  cross-legged  on  his  mat,  smoking  his 
tchibouk  and  playing  with  his  string  of  amber  beads. 
He  looked  the  embodiment  of  contentment.  His  shop 
was  filled  with  antiques  —  real,  not  shams.  He  was 
affable  to  his  clients,  and  asked  them  three  times  the 
worth  of  each  article.  Then  he  spent  pleasant  hours 
wrestling  over  the  price  with  them.  When  at  last  he 
parted  with  one  of  his  antiques,  he  would  hold  it  to 
his  heart,  would  look  at  it,  and  sigh. 

"Take  it,"  he  would  say  to  the  customer,  "and  re 
member  that  I,  Hassan  the  generous,  gave  it  to  you. 
You  did  not  buy  it  —  no,  you  did  not  buy  it!" 

It  was  a  little  shop,  just  big  enough  for  Hassan  and 
his  antiques,  with  room  for  not  more  than  three  clients 
at  a  time.  He  preferred  only  one.  Then  he  could  con 
centrate  himself  on  the  glittering  contest  between 
mind  and  mind.  The  walls  of  the  shop  were  covered 
with  precious  rugs,  of  colors  as  soft  and  delicate  as  a 
maiden's  caresses.  Small  cases  contained  jewels,  such 
as  monarchs  were  wont  to  give  to  their  favorites. 

Hassan  did  not  often  travel  to  buy  his  goods.   His 


BEHIND   HASSAN'S  SHOP  219 

sources  were  mostly  women.  Frequently  two  veiled 
hanoums,  on  whose  pallid  faces  traces  of  superb  beauty 
were  discernible,  would  come  to  Hassan.  From  their 
bosoms  they  would  produce  cases  containing  jewels 
as  brilliant  as  their  own  eyes  once  had  been.  Hassan 
would  take  the  cases  and  become  lost  in  meditation. 
He  knew  the  value  of  stones.  He  also  knew  the  value 
of  hesitation.  He  invariably  offered  one  third  the 
value  of  the  stones,  and  paid  in  cash.  It  was  more  than 
any  other  jeweler  in  Stamboul  would  do,  and  Hassan 
prospered. 

His  little  shop  had  an  inner  shop,  where  ostensibly 
he  stored  some  of  his  wares;  and  there  Hassan,  the 
affable  and  apparently  contented  old  Turk,  was  dis 
contented.  In  consequence  he  had  become  a  Young 
Turk,  and  the  real  use  to  which  the  inner  shop  was 
put  was  as  a  meeting-place  for  the  leaders  of  the  move 
ment.  From  that  inner  shop  they  could  pass  into  an 
other  shop  on  another  street.  The  other  shop  was  a 
creamery,  where  one  could  buy  a  plate  of  the  most  de 
licious  malebi  for  five  cents.  It  was  kept  by  a  brother 
of  Hassan's,  just  as  fat,  and  just  as  contented  as  he. 

Few  people  knew  that  the  creamery  man  and  the 
man  of  the  antiques  knew  each  other.  They  were 
never  seen  speaking  together.  Born  in  the  interior  of 
Turkey,  they  had  gone  their  different  ways  in  child 
hood,  and  only  five  years  before  this  had  chanced  to 
recognize  their  brotherhood  from  two  rings  which  they 


220         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

wore.  At  that  time  the  brother  was  looking  for  a  shop, 
and  Hassan  was  searching  for  a  faithful  one  to  take 
this  other  shop.  When  he  became  assured  of  his 
brother's  fidelity,  he  lent  him  the  money  to  start  the 
creamery,  and  initiated  him  into  the  Young  Turks 
movement.  The  arrangement  had  worked  admirably. 
One  of  the  leaders  of  the  Young  Turks  could  go  to 
Hassan,  and  another  could  enter  the  creamery,  and 
without  suspicion  they  could  meet  in  Hassan's  inner 
shop. 

It  was  about  noon,  the  hour  when  the  markets  are 
brimming  with  life.  Orkhan  was  going  from  shop  to 
shop  in  search  of  emeralds;  for  occasionally  he  did 
send  presents  to  his  fiancee,  as  custom  demanded. 
He  ended  up  at  Hassan's.  Two  other  clients  were 
wrestling  over  a  price.  The  antiquary  motioned  Ork 
han  to  a  seat,  and  placed  before  him  the  case  of  emer 
alds  Orkhan  asked  for.  WThen  the  other  clients  de 
parted,  —  and  this  time  Hassan  did  not  wrestle  so 
long  as  usual  with  them,  —  Orkhan  rose,  raised  a  rug 
on  the  rear  wall,  and  disappeared  behind  it. 

Four  other  Turks  were  already  waiting  for  him. 
Orkhan  sat  down  on  a  mat  by  them. 

"I  am  here,  to-day,"  he  said,  after  the  salutations, 
"because  I  promised  Hakir  Pasha  to  ask  you  your 
intentions  in  regard  to  Albania";  and  he  went  on  to 
deliver  the  message  of  the  old  Albanian. 


BEHIND   HASSAN'S  SHOP  221 

The  leaders  received  his  words  in  silence.  The  oldest 
among  them,  whom  they  called  Tselebi,  "the  lord," 
after  a  few  seconds'  pause,  said  mildly :  — 

"This  is  certain:  just  now  we  need  Hakir  Pasha's 
cooperation.  We  cannot  afford  to  lose  him." 

Tselebi  Effendi  folded  his  hands  across  a  comfort 
ably  broad  expanse  of  waistcoat,  and  closed  his  eyes, 
as  if  he  had  fully  answered  Orkhan. 

The  latter  was  not  satisfied. 

"Can  we  accept  his  help  unless  we  agree  to  his  de 
mands?"  he  asked. 

The  old  man  opened  his  eyes  in  surprise.  He  took 
off  his  fez  and  ran  his  be  jeweled  fingers  through  his 
hair. 

"Dear  Orkhan  Effendi,"  he  said  mildly,  "there  is  a 
proverb  which  says, '  You  have  to  bow  to  the  Devil,  if 
you  wish  to  cross  his  bridge." 

"But  may  not  his  plan  of  a  'United  States  of  Tur 
key'  be  feasible?"  persisted  Orkhan.  "May  it  not 
even  be  the  best  way  of  reconciling  the  divers  nation 
alities,  and  turning  them  into  a  single  nation?" 

Tselebi  Effendi  raised  his  hands  toward  the  ceiling. 

"  May  Allah  be  with  us !  But  you  do  not  mean  that 
to  reconstruct  our  country,  you  would  really  give 
equal  rights  to  the  people  who  have  become  our  sub 
jects  because  we  are  brave  and  they  are  cowards? 
You  might  as  well  say  at  once  that  a  Christian  is  as 
good  as  you  are." 


222         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

As  Orkhan  stirred  on  his  mat,  he  felt  the  Albanian 
girdle  his  mother  had  given  him.  Albania  had  always 
entered  into  his  dreams;  and  although  this  was  little 
more  than  sentimentality,  sentimentality  may  be  a 
strong  force  in  a  man's  life. 

"I  thought  that  was  what  we  were  working  for,"  he 
said,  "that  Mussulmans  and  Christians  should  have 
one  fatherland,  and  be  equals  before  the  law." 

"That  is  it  exactly,"  assented  the  old  Turk.  "But 
it  must  be  the  Mussulman  who  apportions  justice  to 
the  Christians.  We  mean  to  do  our  best  by  these  peo 
ple  who  are  our  subjects.  We  mean  to  give  them  their 
rights  —  only  we  shall  have  to  decide  what  are  their 
rights." 

At  this  juncture  Halil  Bey  entered  the  meeting. 

"We  are  just  discussing  the  problem  of  our  Chris 
tian  subjects,"  said  Tselebi  Effendi  to  him.  "What  a 
pity  it  is  that  there  is  a  problem.  If  the  Conqueror 
had  only  taken  every  Christian  woman  and  given  her 
to  a  faithful  soldier,  what  a  lot  of  trouble  it  would 
have  saved  us  now." 

"What  the  Conqueror  omitted  to  do  we  may  still 
accomplish,"  Halil  Bey  answered.  "We  may  not  be 
able  to  do  it  in  the  same  way;  but  there  are  other 
ways." 

"And  Europe?"  asked  Orkhan. 

"If  we  are  successful,  we  need  not  trouble  about 
Europe,"  Halil  Bey  replied.  "They  may  even  go  so 


BEHIND  HASSAN'S  SHOP 


far  as  to  give  us  their  help  in  quieting  internal  dissen 
sions.  Don't  forget  that  it  was  European  warships 
which  bombarded  Crete  for  us  a  few  years  ago." 

Several  of  the  Turks  laughed;  but  Tselebi  Effendi, 
seeing  that  Orkhan  was  still  unconvinced,  went  on  to 
explain  patiently  :  — 

"I  am  afraid,  Orkhan  Effendi,  that  you  do  not  yet 
see  matters  entirely  as  we  do.  But  just  suppose  that 
we  hold  an  election,  —  as  under  the  Constitution  we 
shall  have  to  do,  —  and  suppose  that  the  Christians 
outvote  us.  Would  you  let  them  make  laws  for  us  ?  " 

"Does  the  lion  obey  the  crowing  of  three  —  or 
thirty  —  cocks?"  asked  Halil  Bey  scornfully. 

Orkhan  was  becoming  won  over  to  the  view  held  by 
the  majority.  In  spite  of  the  trace  of  Albanian  blood 
in  him,  he  was  essentially  an  Ottoman,  with  the  fierce 
pride  in  his  race,  and  implicit  belief  in  its  superiority. 

"What,  then,  shall  I  tell  Hakir  Pasha?"  he  asked. 

"You  need  not  see  him  yourself.  We  will  give  him  an 
answer  that  will  suit  him.  Much  good  will  it  do  him 
afterwards.  We  shall  do  the  same  with  the  Cretan 
Stavropoulos.  He  guarantees  to  raise  fifty  thousand 
pounds  under  the  condition  that  Crete  shall  be  an 
nexed  to  Greece  as  soon  as  the  Constitution  is  pro 
claimed.  Give  them  Crete!"  Tselebi  Effendi  snorted. 
"But  we  need  the  money  to  help  mobilize  the  army." 

"When  will  Stavropoulos  pay  the  money?"  asked 
one  of  the  others.  "  Don't  trust  the  Greeks,you  know." 


224        IN   THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"It  is  being  raised  now  among  them.  We  are  pro 
mised  it  in  less  than  a  month." 

"How  much  have  the  Armenians  given  so  far?" 

"Only  half  a  million,  but  another  half  is  promised." 

"And  what  is  it  they  are  asking?"  inquired  the 
youngest  of  the  leaders. 

Halil  Bey  laughed  till  the  tears  came  into  his  eyes. 

"An  Armenian  kingdom  and  an  Armenian  king," 
he  gasped  through  his  merriment.  "As  if  they  were 
good  for  anything  except  to  cheat  in  business." 

"We  need  have  no  scruples  in  accepting  the  money 
of  the  Greeks  and  the  Armenians,"  said  Tselebi 
Effendi.  "They  get  it  out  of  our  pockets,  and  we 
might  as  well  get  back  as  much  of  it  as  we  can." 

Orkhan  Effendi  was  the  first  to  leave  the  meeting. 
He  went  out  into  the  little  creamery  shop,  sat  down 
beside  a  water-carrier,  and  ate  a  plate  of  malebi. 

"Bad  times,"  said  the  carrier,  saluting. 

"Very  bad,"  agreed  Orkhan.  "But  I  hear  that  Al 
lah  is  planning  to  send  a  blessing  to  our  country 
shortly,  and  that  the  army  is  to  be  the  instrument  of 
Allah." 

"You  don't  say  so!"  exclaimed  the  water-carrier. 
"How  did  you  come  by  such  news?" 

"The  news  is  traveling  fast  through  the  Prophet's 
land.  Good  times  are  coming  to  our  country." 

"Inshallah!  Inshallah!"  said  the  water-carrier. 


BEHIND  HASSAN'S  SHOP  225 

Orkhan  finished  his  malebi,  and  scanned  the  face  of 
the  man.  He  rose,  paid  his  pennies,  and  then,  leaning 
over,  said  in  an  undertone :  — 

"When  the  army  comes,  Allah  wishes  every  faith 
ful  Turk  to  be  with  it" ;  and  before  the  water-carrier 
could  ask  more,  he  was  out  of  the  shop. 

Orkhan  walked  leisurely  through  the  crowded 
streets  of  the  market,  wondering  what  Tselebi  Effendi 
would  tell  Hakir  Pasha,  and  how  he  would  take  it. 
At  the  foot  of  the  Bridge  of  Galata  he  stopped  and 
looked  at  the  wonderful  scene  about  him.  "Allah  has 
been  very  generous  to  mankind,"  he  thought.  "We 
ought  really  to  love  one  another  as  brothers,  no  mat 
ter  what  race  we  may  happen  to  be."  He  thought  of 
Millicent,  and  took  it  as  a  sign  of  his  tolerance  that  he 
loved  a  Christian  woman  so  dearly.  He  leaned  upon 
the  railing  of  the  bridge,  feasting  his  eyes  on  the  loveli 
ness  before  him,  and  a  wondrous  sense  of  peace  came 
upon  him. 

From  the  other  end  of  the  bridge  a  man  was  ap 
proaching.  He  was  a  fat  and  stocky  Armenian  —  the 
one  who  had  annoyed  Millicent.  He  did  not  notice 
the  Turk  until  he  was  almost  upon  him.  He  stopped, 
hate  and  fear  distorting  his  features. 

As  if  feeling  his  presence,  Orkhan  turned  slowly 
around,  and  the  Armenian  scuttled  away  like  a  fright 
ened  rabbit. 

Orkhan  watched  him  disappear,  a  frown  slowly 


226         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

gathering  on  his  face.  "No,  I  could  not  love  the  Ar 
menians  as  brothers,"  he  thought. 

For  a  long  time  after  the  Armenian  had  gone,  the 
Turk  remained  where  he  was,  seemingly  absorbed  in 
the  scenery,  in  reality  thinking  over  what  the  leaders 
had  said,  and  the  problems  which  Turkey,  under  a 
constitution,  would  have  to  face. 

At  length  he  gave  a  vigorous  shake  of  his  head,  as  if 
throwing  off  the  remnants  of  the  sentimental  ideas  he 
once  had  entertained. 

"No,  the  Turks  must  predominate.  So  must  the 
Turkish  religion  and  the  Turkish  language." 

With  resolute  strides  he  walked  down  to  the  bridge, 
and  boarded  the  steamer  for  his  home. 

That  night  he  took  from  his  waist  the  Albanian  belt 
his  mother  had  girded  on. him.  He  did  not  hesitate, 
neither  did  he  stop  to  think  long  of  the  women  who 
had  embroidered  it.  From  a  cupboard  he  brought  a 
can  of  kerosene,  saturated  the  belt,  and  set  it  on  fire. 

When  there  remained  only  a  charred  fragment,  he 
exclaimed :  — 

:'Yes,  the  Turks  and  the  Turks  alone  must  rule 
here." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

WHERE   ELPIS   REMAINS   SILENT 

MARRIAGE  is  the  greatest  thing  in  the  lives  of 
men  and  women  only  when  it  brings  out  the 
best  in  them  —  helps  them  to  realize,  in  a  measure, 
their  ideals.  When  it  is  the  mere  wild  passion  of 
man  and  woman,  it  is  only  suited  to  times  of  wild- 
ness  and  passion.  If  the  man  must  ride  forth  to 
battle  every  day,  and  his  mate  always  fears  lest  he 
will  not  return,  then  this  love  may  last  —  till  he  is 
killed. 

Under  civilized  conditions,  a  civilized  love  is  neces 
sary  to  endure,  and  that  must  be  a  love  of  the  brain 
and  soul,  as  well  as  of  the  heart.  The  primeval  love  is 
for  primeval  conditions. 

These  were  the  thoughts  of  Elpis,  as  she  sat  in  her 
room,  thinking  hard  if  there  might  not  be  some  way 
in  which  she  could  help  Millicent  in  this  struggle  of 
hers  on  which  her  whole  future  life  depended.  Elpis 
did  not  believe  with  her  brother  that  her  friend  could 
be  happy  with  a  Turk,  no  matter  how  much  he  might 
fascinate  her  temporarily.  There  were  too  great  dif 
ferences  in  all  their  views  about  life,  and  the  things 
which  made  life  worth  while.  Millicent  was  not  of  the 
primeval  cast  of  mind  and  feeling,  and  Elpis  knew  that 


228 


she  could  not  be  happy  immured  in  the  walls  of  a 
harem.  From  what  she  had  read  of  Americans,  Elpis 
judged  that  both  the  man  and  the  woman  entered 
so  largely  into  each  other's  lives  that  there  must  be  — 
even  more  than  with  Europeans  —  a  broad  basis  of 
mutual  sympathy  and  common  aspiration  in  a  union, 
to  make  for  lasting  happiness. 

Once  Elpis  had  liked  Orkhan  Effendi.  Now  she 
hated  him  with  the  intense  hatred  of  the  Greeks,which 
is  patroparathaton. 

"I  may  have  to  have  recourse  to  Mitro's  belt  after 
all,"  she  mused.  "But  perhaps  if  she  were  to  see  more 
of  him  —  a  great  deal  of  him;  if  he  were  to  become 
more  commonplace  to  her,  a  sort  of  everyday  man  in 
stead  of  the  romantic  figure  he  now  appears,  she  might 
feel  this  fundamental  difference  between  them,  and  be 
repelled  by  it." 

At  any  rate,  it  was  the  only  thing  Elpis  could  think 
of,  and  she  sent  at  once  for  Mitro. 

"Mitro,  I  want  you  to  go  to  Orkhan  Effendi's.  If 
he  is  out,  wait  until  he  returns,  and  ask  him  to  come 
here  this  afternoon,  or  this  evening." 

Mitro  did  not  move.  His  attitude  was  all  respect, 
but  having  seen  Elpis  grow  up  he  assumed  the  right  to 
protect  and  defend  her.  If  her  brother  was  lax,  all  the 
more  reason  that  he,  Mitro,  should  be  stern. 

:'You  may  go  now,"  Elpis  said. 

Mitro  twisted  his  Albanian  cap  in  his  hands,  but 


WHERE  ELPIS  REMAINS  SILENT 

still  made  no  move.  Raising  his  eyes  to  those  of  the 
girl,  he  said:  — 

"Miss  Elpis,  a  Turk  who  crosses  a  Greek's  thresh 
old  brings  dishonor  to  the  house." 

"It  is  a  great  necessity  which  forces  me  to  send 
for  him.  If  I  need  your  help  otherwise,  I  will  ask 
for  it." 

"I  would  rather  kill  him  anyhow,"  the  Albanian 
said  fiercely,  "than  carry  him  a  message  of  this  kind." 

"If  you  do  not  wish  to  take  the  message,  I  can  send 
Thenasy  with  it." 

"Thenasy  is  a  good  soul,  but  he  is  only  a  servant. 
It  must  never  be  repeated  that  the  daughter  of  the 
Paparighopoulos  sent  such  a  message  to  a  Turk." 

"That  is  why  I  wanted  you  to  take  it;  and  that  is 
also  why  I  send  it  by  word  of  mouth." 

"I  go.  But  will  he  have  to  come  here  often?" 

"Several  times,  I  think." 

The  Albanian  turned  away.  There  was  that  air  of 
decision  to  his  back,  however,  which  caused  Elpis  to 
call  him  to  her. 

"Mitro,  no  accident  must  happen  to  Orkhan 
Effendi  just  now." 

The  Albanian  Greek  did  not  reply. 

"Mitro!  I  have  my  plans,  and  I  don't  want  them 
upset.  Will  you  swear  to  me  obedience?" 

He  pondered  for  a  minute;  then  unburdened  his 
mind. 


230         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"Mistress,  he  has  cast  a  spell  over  the  girl.  The 
only  way  to  break  it  is  to  kill  him." 

Knowing  the  hold  superstition  had  on  people  like 
Mitro,  Elpis  answered :  — 

"He  has  cast  a  spell  over  her,  and  it  is  of  the  kind 
that  if  he  dies,  she  will  never  recover  from  it.  That  is 
why  I  want  you  to  let  him  alone.  We  will  cure  her 
of  it,  you  and  I." 

Mitro  smiled  now,  content  that  she  shared  his 
views  and  confident  both  in  her  powers  and  in  his 
own. 

"She  is  so  pretty,  Miss  Elpis,  and  so  good  and  gra 
cious.  When  she  first  came  here,  she  held  her  head 
as  erect  as  a  new  tombstone.  Now  she  droops  like  a 
thirsty  plant." 

"You  and  I  will  help  her  to  carry  her  head  proudly 
again  —  and  that  day  will  be  a  gala  one  for  us." 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  him.  He  did  not  presume 
to  touch  it.  Instead,  he  stooped  and  kissed  the  hem  of 
her  dress. 

At  sunset  Elpis  and  Millicent  were  seated  on  an 
upper  terrace,  when  they  saw  Orkhan  coming  up  to 
the  house. 

"Oh,  here  is  Orkhan  Effendi,"  said  Elpis  innocent 
ly.  "You  will  come  down  to  see  him." 

Without  waiting  for  a  reply  she  went  to  greet  her 
guest. 


WHERE  ELPIS  REMAINS  SILENT    231 

"You  need  not  mention  that  I  sent  for  you,"  she 
said  to  the  Turk. 

Orkhan  smiled  at  the  Greek  girl,  confident  that  she 
was  his  ally. 

When  Millicent  joined  them,  Elpis  left  the  two  to 
gether,  in  a  perfectly  matter-of-fact  way.  She  went 
up  to  her  own  room,  and  there  picked  up  a  piece  of 
sewing  and  worked  away  on  it  as  if  her  life  depended 
on  finishing  it. 

Orkhan  stayed  a  half -hour — an  hour — an  hour  and 
a  half.  An  interminable  time  it  seemed  to  the  seam 
stress.  She  saw  them  walking  together  in  the  garden, 
the  man  erect,  triumphant ;  the  girl  drooping,  yielding. 

Elpis  dropped  her  sewing  in  her  lap  and  watched 
them.  From  the  lovely  American  girl,  she  looked  to 
the  magnificent  specimen  of  manhood  at  her  side,  and 
shook  her  head. 

"No,  I  do  not  blame  her,"  she  murmured;  "but  I 
wish  she  were  a  Greek." 

When  Orkhan  went  away,  Millicent  slowly  came  up 
to  Elpis's  room,  and  sank  into  a  chair.  For  some  time 
she  said  nothing,  and  the  other  was  again  absorbed  in 
her  sewing. 

"It  is  no  use,"  Millicent  said  at  length,  as  if  to  her 
self. 

"Have  you  promised?"  Elpis  asked  quietly. 

"N-n-o.  Even  now  I  could  not  quite  bring  myself 
to  promise  what  he  wanted." 


232         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"What  was  that?" 

"To  go  to  the  frontier  and  be  sold  to  his  cousin, 
Malkhatoun.  And  he  felt  hurt  that  I  was  reluctant  to 
be  sold  as  a  slave.,  in  order  to  become  his." 

Millicent  gave  a  dreary  little  laugh. 

Elpis  made  no  comment.  She  kept  on  sewing,  tak 
ing  large  vicious  stitches  that  she  knew  would  have  to 
come  out  again.  She  was  glad  when  the  needle  went 
deep  into  her  forefinger. 

"Is  it  true,  as  he  says,  that  love  is  everything  in  this 
life,  and  that  nothing  else  matters?  I  used  to  think 
there  were  so  many  other  things  that  mattered  too." 

Deliberately  Elpis  stuck  her  needle  twice  more  into 
her  finger.  Then  she  put  the  finger  in  her  mouth. 

"He  says  —  he  made  me  think,"  Millicent  went  on, 
"that  even  a  year  of  love  is  worth  all  else  —  is  worth  a 
lifetime  of  all  that  life  has  thus  far  held  for  me." 

"Would  he  give  up  his  Young  Turks  movement  for 
you  —  for  a  year  of  your  love?"  Elpis  asked. 

"He  says  that  he  has  thought  of  nothing  except  me, 
ever  since  he  has  known  he  loved  me.  And  then  he  sees 
things  so  differently  for  men  and  for  women.  I  am  to 
be  kept  for  his  eyes  alone,  after  I  am  married.  I  shall 
not  see  any  of  my  friends — men,  I  mean.  I  shall  be  his 
precious  possession,  from  whom  he  will  keep  all 
worry  and  trouble  and  strife.  I  had  meant  to  be  a 
part  of  the  world,  but  he  says  that  the  world  must 
never  enter  the  garden  of  flowers  where  I  shall  live." 


WHERE  ELPIS  REMAINS  SILENT     233 

Elpis,  with  great  self-control,  threaded  another 
needle. 

"And  exactly  what  answer  did  you  make  to  him?" 

"I  asked  for  a  few  more  days  to  think.  I  cannot 
think  when  he  is  there.  He  says  I  ought  not  to  think 
-  that  it  is  a  woman's  place  to  love  and  not  to  think. 
Oh  yes,  I  know  how  funny  it  sounds  —  now.  Even 
when  he  said  it,  I  knew  it  —  only  I  could  not  seem  to 
feel  it  then.  Elpis,"  she  asked  piteously,  "what  is  this 
force  which  seems  to  rout  all  the  forces  of  my  mind 
and  character?" 

But  Elpis  only  laid  down  her  sewing  and  gathered 
Millicent  into  her  tender  arms,  and  drew  her  down 
upon  her  bosom.  And  while  the  American  girl  kneeled 
before  her  arid  cried,  Elpis  petted  and  kissed  her,  but 
did  not  try  to  answer  her. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

A    HOURI 

,RKHAN  EFFENDI  was  distinctly  irritated  by 
Millicent's  refusal  to  accept  his  plans  for  her. 
They  seemed  so  simple  and  feasible  to  him.  The 
more  he  thought  of  it,  the  less  he  liked  it.  An  anger 
rose  in  his  heart  which  clouded  his  love  for  her.  He 
felt  antagonistic  toward  her,  though  he  tried  to  excuse 
her  attitude  by  blaming  her  bringing-up,  that  Ameri 
can  bringing-up  which  made  women  unnatural.  He 
was  conscious  that  Millicent  was  still  struggling 
against  his  love,  and  he  was  impatient  for  the  time 
when  she  should  be  entirely  dependent  on  him  and 
subservient  to  his  will.  But  how  was  that  to  be 
brought  about,  with  her  unreasonableness  in  the 
matter  of  being  sold  as  a  slave? 

Instinctively  he  turned  his  steps  toward  the  palace 
where  Malkhatoun,  his  cousin,  lived.  She  would  help 
him  to  think  of  some  other  scheme.  It  was  late  in  the 
afternoon  when  he  reached  the  kiosk  of  his  nurse.  He 
told  her  that  he  must  see  his  cousin  again. 

"You  will  bring  death  upon  us  all,"  the  old  dame 
cried,  throwing  her  hands  toward  heaven.  "I  should 
not  mind  dying,  my  lion,  if  you  were  spared;  but  I 
cannot  work  toward  your  destruction." 


A  HOURI  235 

But  Orkhan  was  a  charmer,  and  she  worshiped  him 
with  extravagant  Oriental  devotion.  They  were  not 
empty  words,  that  she  was  willing  to  die  for  him. 

:<  Yet  perhaps  I  can  manage  it  this  time/'  she  went 
on,  as  she  detected  the  deep  air  of  disappointment 
which  he  put  on,  and  thus  it  came  about  that  once 
more  Orkhan,  in  his  disguise,  entered  the  household 
of  Malkhatoun. 

The  young  girl  had  grown  more  ethereal  and  exqui 
site  under  the  suffering  she  was  enduring.  Her  eyes 
had  become  larger  and  darker  from  much  weeping, 
and  there  was  a  pathos  about  her  face  which  enhanced 
its  loveliness  more  than  the  finest  jewels  or  lace  could 
have  done.  She  received  Orkhan  with  dignity  and 
sweetness,  although  she  knew  he  would  only  torture 
her  heart  a  little  more. 

She  had  hardly  taken  her  seat  before  Orkhan  burst 
forth:- 

"She  is  not  willing  to  go  to  the  frontier." 

As  he  uttered  the  words,  he  felt  a  humiliation  greater 
even  than  he  had  felt  when  alone. 

Malkhatoun  divined  this,  and  hastened  to  say :  — 

"It  is  because  she  does  not  know  Turkey.  She  is 
afraid  of  our  customs." 

"Perhaps;  but  what  shall  I  do  now?" 

Malkhatoun  lost  herself  in  thought,  and  Orkhan 
grew  more  hopeful.  She  inspired  him  with  confidence, 
and  near  her  he  became  like  a  child  in  the  presence  of 


236         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

a  mother,  who  always  finds  some  means,  when  all 
looks  desperate.  As  he  sat  waiting  for  the  result  of  her 
deliberations,  his  eyes  were  on  her  delicate  face,  and 
for  the  first  time  he  became  conscious  of  her  wondrous 
beauty.  It  enchanted  and  touched  him.  She  appeared 
to  him  suddenly  like  a  marvelous  garden  which  had 
been  hidden  from  view,  and  the  door  of  which  now 
had  been  left  open.  No  wonder  Malkhatoun  had  been 
able  to  gain  the  adherence  of  the  most  opposed  old 
Turks  to  the  new  movement.  Now,  if  she  would  only 
go  to  see  Millicent,  she  could  not  fail  to  win  her  con 
sent  to  their  plans. 

"Malkhatoun!"  he  cried,  breaking  in  on  her 
thoughts,  "if  Millicent  were  to  know  you,  she  would 
lose  her  fear  of  being  sold  to  you  as  a  slave.  She  would 
love  you,  and  come  willingly  to  the  Palace.  Could  you 
arrange  to  go  and  see  her  at  the  Paparighopoulos' ? 
You  know  Miss  Elpis." 

Malkhatoun  brought  her  far-away  look  back  to  the 
man  she  loved. 

"You  wish  me  to  see  her,  and  to  persuade  her  to 
become  your  wife?"  she  asked  slowly. 

"Yes!" 

"But  if  she  has  resisted  you,  the  man  she  loves,  of 
what  avail  could  I  be?" 

"Because  you  are  a  wonderful  little  person;  because 
your  beauty  captivates,  and  your  personality  con 
vinces." 


A   HOURI  237 

Orkhan  spoke  with  a  tremor  in  his  voice.  This  Mal- 
khatoun  he  was  discovering  stirred  him  strangely,  and 
he  did  not  know  how  to  express  his  feelings. 

"I  did  not  know  you  had  even  noticed  I  was 
pretty." 

"Pretty!"  he  exclaimed  scornfully.  "Pretty  is  too 
small  a  word  for  you.  You  are  meant  to  be  a  houri  of 
paradise." 

She  smiled  sadly. 

"Paradise  is  so  remote  —  and  I  can  only  go  there 
after  I  am  dead." 

"You  must  not  talk  of  death.  You  are  not  going 
to  die.  You  are  meant  for  love  and  joy  on  this  earth  "; 
and  with  the  words  a  chill  came  into  his  heart  at  the 
thought  that  her  happiness  would  be  given  to  her  by 
some  other  man. 

She  laughed. 

"No,  I  will  not  die  before  I  have  helped  you.  Very 
well,  cousin,  since  you  want  me  to,  I  will  go  to  her  and 
try  to  make  her  do  as  you  wish.  And  if  I  succeed,  it 
will  be  enough  for  me  that  I  have  helped  you  to  achieve 
that  which  you  so  greatly  desire." 

Her  last  words  ended  almost  brokenly,  and  the 
cloud  of  suffering  descended  upon  her  eyes  and  her 
lips. 

Orkhan  rose  to  his  feet,  with  an  emotion  he  did  not 
try  to  define. 

"You  are  very  good  to  me,"  he  stammered. 


238         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"  Never  hesitate  to  come  to  me  when  you  need  help. 
The  more  difficult  the  task,  the  more  reason  why  you 
should  come  to  me." 

She  went  out  of  the  room;  but  he  lingered,  unwilling 
to  go,  hoping  that  she  would  return,  longing  to  hear 
her  voice  again.  But  only  a  slave  appeared,  to  conduct 
him  out  of  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

THE  GIRL  FROM  THE   EAST  AND   THE  GIRL  FROM  THE  WEST 

THE  shutters  of  the  Paparighopoulos  villa  were 
tightly  closed  against  the  heat  of  the  sun.  The 
awnings  over  the  terraces  extended  their  protecting 
canvases  about  the  house.  The  waters  of  the  foun 
tains  in  the  garden  and  in  the  hall  were  whispering  of 
coolness,  while  a  man  was  sprinkling  more  water  on 
all  the  lanes  leading  from  the  house. 

Millicent  in  her  darkened  room  was  lying  on  a  long 
wicker  chair,  pretending  to  rest,  but  occupied  with 
thoughts  which  were  bad  company  for  hot  weather. 

A  knock  at  the  door  startled  her.  Of  late  she  had 
become  nervous. 

The  knock  was  repeated. 

"Come  in,"  she  said  reluctantly. 

The  French  maid  appeared. 

"Mademoiselle  Elpis  begs  mademoiselle  to  render 
herself  to  the  large  drawing-room." 

Millicent's  first  impulse  was  to  excuse  herself;  but 
she  had  several  times  been  so  peevish  with  Elpis  of 
late  that  she  reconsidered  this  decision.  Unwillingly 
she  rose,  and  went  down  to  the  formal  drawing-room, 
which  was  kept  even  darker  than  the  rest  of  the  house. 
On  the  threshold  she  stopped  and  peered  in,  wonder- 


240         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

ing  why  Elpis  had  sent  for  her  here  at  this  time  of 
the  day. 

"Are  you  here,  Elpis?"  she  asked. 

She  received  no  answer;  yet  she  was  conscious  of  life 
within  the  room. 

"Are  you  here?"  she  repeated  again. 

Gradually  from  the  darkness  emerged  the  presence 
of  two  tall  eunuchs,  standing  within,  on  either  side  of 
the  door.  They  were  so  black  that  hardly  more  than 
the  whites  of  their  eyes  were  to  be  distinguished. 

Frightened,  Millicent  started  back,  when  from  the 
middle  of  the  room  she  heard  some  one  say :  — 

"Come  forward,  Miss  Melisande  Grey." 

It  was  the  musical  and  vibrant  voice  of  a  woman, 
and  it  dispelled  her  apprehensions.  And  as  the  pupils 
of  her  eyes  adjusted  themselves  to  the  gloom,  she  per 
ceived  a  girl,  younger  than  herself,  sitting  on  a  low 
chair,  and  dressed  in  a  loose  yellow  garment,  like  the 
tunics  which  the  women  of  ancient  Rome  wore.  Her 
dark  hair  was  fantastically  arranged  with  what  seemed 
to  be  a  golden  crown.  At  her  feet  crouched  several 
attendants. 

Millicent  had  taken  a  few  hesitating  steps  into  the 
room  when  the  girl  again  half  asked,  half  asserted:  — 

"You  are  Miss  Melisande  Grey?" 

"Yes." 

"I  am  very  glad  to  see  you.  Will  you  come 
nearer?" 


EAST   AND   WEST  241 

When  Millicent  had  approached  within  arm's 
length  of  the  other,  she  reached  out  an  exquisite  hand 
and  drew  her  still  nearer. 

"Kneel  down  before  me,  that  I  may  see  your  face 
well." 

Under  other  circumstances  it  would  not  have  oc 
curred  to  the  American  girl  to  obey  this  extraordinary 
request.  Here,  somehow,  it  seemed  the  only  thing 
to  do. 

The  strange  girl,  with  a  slight  gesture,  said  some 
thing  in  Turkish,  and  an  attendant  partially  opened  a 
shutter  to  let  more  light  fall  on  the  kneeling  American. 
Intently  the  girl  in  the  yellow  gown  scrutinized  Milli 
cent.  She  studied  her  as  she  might  had  she  been  a  rare 
painting  which  she  contemplated  buying,  but  of  whose 
authenticity  she  was  in  doubt.  With  a  touch  as  light 
as  a  butterfly's  the  tips  of  her  fingers  touched  Milli- 
cent's  neck  and  shoulders. 

"I  have  heard  so  much  of  your  marvelous  golden 
hair  -  "  and  before  Millicent  realized  what  she  was 
about,  the  girl  drew  out  her  hairpins  and  threw  them 
into  the  lap  of  a  slave. 

"  Mashallah ! "  rippled  around  the  walls  of  the  room 
at  the  shower  of  gold  on  Millicent's  shoulders;  and 
then  for  the  first  time  she  noticed  that,  besides  the 
attendants  crouching  at  the  feet  of  the  girl,  the  walls 
of  the  large  room  were  lined  with  standing  figures. 
There  must  have  been  forty  women  in  the  room, 


IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

standing  or  seated,  and  all  ready  to  obey  the  slight 
figure  on  the  low  chair. 

"Yes,  you  are  beautiful,"  the  girl  said  slowly.  She 
put  her  hand  beneath  some  of  Millicent's  locks  and 
held  them  high.  "  Comme  les  eaux  blondes  d'une  cas 
cade,"  she  murmured.  With  a  soft  little  sigh,  she 
leaned  back  and  closed  her  eyes. 

Millicent  was  held  in  a  kind  of  fascination  by  the 
whole  affair,  and  especially  by  the  personality  of  the 
strange  girl.  Who  could  she  be?  A  Turkish  princess, 
without  a  doubt.  The  numerous  attendants  indicated 
that,  and  the  tone  in  which  she  spoke. 

Suddenly,  at  an  idea  which  came  to  her,  Millicent 
became  afraid.  Could  this  be  the  Sultan's  daughter 
who  loved  Orkhan,  and  for  fear  of  whose  vengeance 
he  had  wished  Millicent  to  pass  as  a  slave?  And  was 
she  now  praising  her  beauty  to  add  zest  to  some  cruelty 
to  follow?  The  American  girl  searched  the  face  before 
her  with  the  fascinated  interest  one  might  feel  in  one's 
executioner.  Small  and  delicately  built,  she  impressed 
her  as  of  the  finest  texture  the  passionate,  over-per 
fumed  East  could  produce.  The  man  who  once  loved 
her  must  remember  her  with  burning  blood  to  his 
dying  day. 

The  girl's  eyes,  encountering  those  of  Millicent, 
smiled  into  them. 

"  You  are  beautiful,  even  as  he  says  you  are.  But  I 
see  what  he  does  not  see.  Yes,  I  see  it  all." 


COMME  LES  EAUX   BLONDES   D'UXE  CASCADE 


EAST  AND   WEST  243 

The  last  sentence  she  spoke  to  herself;  then  said  a 
word  to  a  slave,  and  a  chair,  lower  than  her  own,  was 
brought  for  Millicent.  The  Turkish  girl  waved  her 
hand  toward  the  chair. 

;' You  may  be  seated,"  she  said,  and  in  spite  of  her 
self  Millicent  felt  as  if  an  honor  had  been  conferred  on 
her.  "  Yes,  you  are  beautiful,  even  as  he  says  you  are. 
You  are  like  a  bit  of  landscape  which  takes  in  the  blue 
of  the  sky,  the  gold  of  the  flowers,  and  the  blossoming 
of  the  almond  tree." 

;' You  seem  to  know  all  about  me,"  Millicent  said. 
"May  I  ask  who  you  are?" 

The  girl  waved  her  hand  —  a  delicate  flutter  of 
fingers. 

"I?  I  am  only  a  Turkish  woman.  I  am  one  of  those 
who  live  behind  latticed  windows,  for  whom  you  are 
sorry  —  and  who  pity  you  with  the  pity  of  those  who 
taste  life  for  those  who  never  shall  know  its  joys." 

"  But  this  does  not  tell  me  specifically  who  you  are." 

The  Turkish  girl  laughed,  and  the  laugh  matched 
the  eyes  and  the  hair. 

''There  is  the  mind  of  the  women  of  the  Occident: 
they  must  know  things  specifically.  They  cannot  un 
derstand  through  the  heart."  She  leaned  forward,  her 
glance  keen,  her  face  eager.  "And  now  tell  me  specifi 
cally  —  how  much  do  you  love  Orkhan  Effendi?" 

In  spite  of  all  that  had  gone  before,  Millicent  was 
taken  aback  at  this  blunt  demand. 


244         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"Your  questioning  is  rather  intimate,"  she  replied 
dryly, "  considering  that  I  do  not  even  now  know  who 
you  are." 

"I  thought  you  had  guessed.  I  am  Malkhatoun, 
Orkhan  Effendi's  cousin.  He  thought  that  if  you 
knew  me  you  would  no  longer  be  afraid  to  come 
to  me." 

She  leaned  over  and  kissed  Millicent.  Various  emo 
tions  were  included  in  the  kiss.  Her  conception  of 
European  women,  gleaned  from  novels,  had  given 
her  a  tremendous  admiration  for  them,  since  she  had 
learned  that  they  were  capable  of  retaining  the  love  of 
a  man  for  a  lifetime.  In  the  atmosphere  of  the  palace, 
man's  love  was  of  ephemeral  existence,  and  the  woman 
who  could  hold  it  for  even  a  few  years  was  an  enchan 
tress.  In  her  imagination  she  had  invested  Millicent 
with  supernatural  gifts  of  attraction.  Now  her  intui 
tion  told  her  that  Millicent  was  only  a  girl  like  herself, 
and  moreover  a  comparative  novice  in  the  art  of 
attracting  men.  Her  kiss,  therefore,  was  like  that  of  a 
grateful  patient  to  the  physician  who  has  given  her 
hope.  She  still  meant  to  use  her  best  endeavor  to  win 
Millicent  for  Orkhan.  She  loved  as  many  Turkish 
women  love.  To  them  the  man  is  their  lord,  and  they 
will  give  him  whatever  he  asks  for  —  their  love,  when 
he  wishes  it,  or  the  love  of  other  women,  when  he 
desires  that.  Thus  they  may  win  his  gratitude,  and 
retain  whatever  of  his  love  they  can. 


EAST  AND  WEST  245 

Now  Malkhatoun  was  thinking  only  of  the  man,  for 
whom  she  had  made  of  herself  a  shrine  to  worship  him 
in.  But  she  also  felt  sorry  for  Millicent  at  the  thought 
of  how  lonely  and  miserable  she  would  be  after  Orkhan 
ceased  to  care  for  her,  and  she  resolved  to  be  kind  to 
this  child  of  the  West.  It  never  occurred  to  her  to  try 
to  save  Millicent  from  this  fate.  On  the  contrary,  she 
meant  to  take  her  with  her  at  once,  if  possible,  in  order 
that  Orkhan  might  not  worry  and  fret  by  having  to 
wait  for  his  bride. 

"Tell  me,  Melisande  Hanoum,"  she  asked  sweetly, 
"why  did  you  refuse  to  obey  your  lord  and  go  to  the 
frontier?  Surely  you  must  have  known  that,  although 
you  would  seem  to  be  my  slave,  you  would  in  reality 
belong  to  Orkhan." 

Having  lost  her  exalted  idea  concerning  Millicent, 
she  went  to  the  other  extreme  and  patronized  her  a 
little. 

The  American  girl's  pride  was  roused,  both  by  the 
tone  and  the  words. 

"  It  was  not  a  question  of  obeying.  I  simply  did  not 
care  for  the  plan  he  proposed.  Indeed,  I  have  not  yet 
made  up  my  mind  whether  I  shall  marry  him  at  all." 

Malkhatoun  opened  wide  her  eyes  at  these  brave 
words. 

"  You  do  not  know  whether  you  will  marry  him  or 
not,  when  he  wishes  to  marry  you  !  " 

"I  care  for  him,"  Millicent  replied  quietly,  "but  I 


246         IN   THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

have  also  my  own  life  to  lead.  I  am  not  sure  that  for 
his  love  I  would  be  willing  to  live  secluded  and  apart 
from  my  friends." 

"What  have  friends  to  do  with  it,  when  love  is  in 
question?" 

"Perhaps  we  love  differently,  we  women  of  Amer 
ica." 

"There  is  only  one  kind  of  love,"  Malkhatoun  cried 
passionately.  "It  surges  through  your  whole  being;  it 
glorifies,  and  shows  you  the  face  of  Allah;  it  burns  and 
tortures,  and  envelops  your  soul  in  flames." 

"And  how  long  does  a  love  like  this  last  ?" 

"How  long  does  it  last?"  the  Turkish  girl  echoed. 
"  What  has  that  to  do  with  it?  It  may  last  a  year  —  a 
month  —  or  a  day.  Nay,  even  an  hour!  What  does 
it  matter?  It  is  not  the  length  of  time  that  counts." 
Her  hands  were  clasped  over  her  heart,  her  eyes  looked 
far  away,  whither  her  thoughts  had  flown.  "One 
might  wait  years,  dreaming  of  it  and  praying  for  it. 
Then  it  comes,  that  glorious  moment!  What  if  one  live 
the  rest  of  one's  life  only  to  remember?  But  what  can 
you  understand  of  this  I  say  to  you?  What  can  you 
know  of  love,  you,  who  can  think  of  other  things  when 
he  is  near  you?  You,  who  can  discuss  the  future  when 
he  is  present !  You,  who  can  hear  the  voice  of  reason 
while  his  voice  speaks!  Can  you  even  conceive  the 
delirious  happiness  of  blindly  obeying  the  lord  of  your 
life?  Would  you  walk  with  bare  feet  on  burning  sand, 


EAST  AND  WEST  247 

your  hands  tied  behind  your  back,  tortured,  polluted, 
even,  for  the  mere  happiness  of  knowing  that  at  the 
last  moment  of  your  life  he  would  be  near  you  —  that 
you  could  touch  his  hand,  hear  his  voice,  and  die  near 
him?" 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

**TOU  ARE  A  WOMAN  —  AND   SO  AM  l" 

TEARS  were  streaming  down  the  cheeks  of  Mal- 
khatoun  as  she  ceased  speaking,  but  they  dried 
at  once,  as  if  by  the  fire  that  consumed  her. 

Millicent  was  tremendously  moved  by  her  impas 
sioned  words.  For  an  instant  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  this 
wild  little  thing,  who  would  drink  all  the  joys  of  life 
at  one  draft,  might  be  right.  Yet  surely  such  a  love 
was  like  a  hurricane,  which,  when  it  had  passed,  left 
nothing  except  destruction  behind.  Hard  on  the  rush 
which  nearly  carried  her  away  came  the  conviction 
that  just  herein  lay  the  danger  of  loving  Orkhan  the 
Turk;  and  that  only  misery  to  herself,  with  no  especial 
good  to  him,  could  come  from  his  love.  She  leaned 
over  to  Malkhatoun. 

"My  dear,  what  you  say  is  very  beautiful,  —  in 
some  instances  it  may  also  be  true,  —  but  it  can  hardly 
be  the  rule  for  men  or  for  women.  What,  after  the 
storm  of  passion  has  passed,  is  there  left  in  your  lives?" 

"Ah!  after  it  has  passed,  what  is  there  left  but,  like 
the  flower  which  has  bloomed,  to  fold  one's  petals  and 
die." 

Millicent  smiled  at  the  single-heartedness  of  the 
reply. 


YOU  ARE  A  WOMAN  — AND  SO  AM  I    249 

"That's  very  romantic  and  poetic,  but  you  must 
remember  that  there  is  the  work  of  the  world  to  do  — 
and  it  is  not  done  by  the  flowers  who  close  their  petals 
and  die." 

Elpis's  sentiments  came  into  her  mind,  and  she 
quoted  them,  as  nearly  as  she  was  able. 

"Our  lives  do  not  belong  to  ourselves  alone,  so  that 
we  may  sacrifice  them  for  such  gratification  as  you 
describe.  Love  is  at  its  best  when  it  is  not  only  intoxi 
cating,  but  when  it  helps  those  who  love  to  work  hand 
in  hand." 

Malkhatoun  was  listening  like  a  child  to  a  foreign 
tongue.  She  had  never  heard  women  talk  in  this  way 
before. 

"The  world  is  as  it  is,"  she  said.  "  How  can  one 
make  it  better?" 

"Each  life  well  lived  helps  a  little,  I  believe.  That 
is  about  all  any  one  of  us  can  hope  to  do.  But  we  can 
at  least  try  to  live  above  the  physical  plane  —  or 
rather,  we  can  make  the  physical  serve  the  mental, 
not  rule  it." 

Malkhatoun  clasped  her  slender  hands  together, 
and  fixed  her  luminous  eyes  on  the  American  girl. 

"And  is  that  what  you  do  in  your  country?"  she 
asked. 

"We  are  trying  to.  And  that  is  why  I  am  debating 
my  marriage  to  your  cousin.  If  I  marry  him  I  am 
afraid  I  shall  have  to  give  up  all  my  ideals." 


250         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

Malkhatoun,  only  half  comprehending,  found  her 
self  strangely  in  sympathy  with  this  unknown  crea 
ture  from  the  new  world.  Millicent  became  to  her 
again  a  different  woman  from  herself,  and  vaguely  the 
Turkish  girl  wondered  if  perhaps  what  Orkhan  loved 
in  this  golden  girl  were  these  strange  thoughts  of  hers. 
She  recalled  all  his  words  about  her,  but  nowhere  did 
she  remember  to  have  heard  him  refer  to  this  spiritual 
side  of  Millicent. 

" Perhaps  that's  why  you  European  women  keep 
the  love  of  a  man  all  your  lives,"  she  said  tentatively. 
"You  think  more  of  others  than  of  your  own  gratifica 
tion.  Is  that  true?" 

"When  we  marry,  we  do  not  do  so  solely  from  phy 
sical  attraction,  but  because  we  have  the  same  sympa 
thies  and  ideals,  and  hope  to  help  each  other." 

Malkhatoun  thought  for  a  moment. 

"And  does  this  make  your  marriages  very  beauti 
ful?  " 

"When  they  are  such  marriages,  they  are  very 
beautiful,"  Millicent  answered. 

"But  does  not  the  man  desire  other  women?"  Mal 
khatoun  asked  simply. 

Millicent  shook  her  head.  "It  is  considered  very 
wrong  for  a  man  to  love  other  women  than  his  wife." 

"But  does  he  not  wish  to?"  Malkhatoun  persisted. 

"  A  nice  man  would  not  think  of  another  woman  if 
he  loved  his  wife." 


YOU  ARE  A  WOMAN— AND  SO  AM  I  251 

"But  when  his  wife  grows  older?" 

"It  does  not  matter.  They  have  other  things  which 
bind  them  together." 

Malkhatoun  wrinkled  her  forehead  in  deep  thought. 
Something  in  her  nature  responded  to  these  ideals; 
but  she  had  loved  too  long  and  too  deeply  to  have 
room  for  anything  else.  And  this  reminded  her  of  her 
mission.  She  still  meant  not  to  disappoint  Orkhan, 
and  to  give  him  Millicent,  since  he  wished  her.  She 
sighed. 

"What  you  say  seems  to  me  as  unattainable  as  the 
blue  dome  of  heaven.  It  is  not  human.  If  you  were  to 
let  all  those  thoughts  go  and  become  my  cousin's  wife, 
you  would  learn  that  nothing  on  this  earth  is  so  great 
as  the  love  of  a  man.  Come,  my  hanoum,  I  have  with 
me  forty  attendants.  One  will  stay  behind,  and  you 
can  take  her  place.  You  shall  be  made  Orkhan's  bride 
at  once." 

But  Millicent,  in  stating  her  own  convictions,  —  in 
hearing  the  ideas  of  this  other  girl,  —  had  become 
conscious  how  little  she  wished  to  give  up  all  her  own 
rich  life  for  the  solitary  love  —  even  of  Orkhan. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"I  would  gladly  marry  him,  if  we  could  meet  on  the 
same  plane,  if  I  could  feel  that  our  marriage  would  not 
stifle  that  voice  in  me  which  speaks  of  life  above  the 
physical,  and  if  I  could  keep  on  being  useful  in  the 
world." 


252         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

In  spite  of  herself,  Malkhatoun  was  half  convinced. 
With  a  flash  of  insight  she  saw  or  rather  felt  the  situ 
ation  as  it  was,  and  with  the  understanding  came  the 
desire  to  help  this  other  girl,  even  if  it  meant  to  deny 
Orkhan. 

"Melisande  Hanoum,  I  came  here  as  my  cousin's 
emissary,  but  I  am  also  a  woman,  as  you  are;  and  as 
Allah  has  made  us  weaker  and  dependent  on  men, 
we  must  help  each  other.  I  am  my  cousin's  emissary, 
but  now  also  your  friend.  If  you  feel  as  you  do,  you 
must  not  marry  him;  for  afterwards  would  be  black 
misery.  Your  surrender  to  him  would  come  not  be 
cause  of  the  power  his  love  has  over  your  soul,  for 
your  soul  will  only  be  lulled,  and  when  it  wakes  — 
what  will  become  of  you?  Our  lives  are  secluded,  and 
our  point  of  view  is  different.  It  will  be  impossible  for 
you  to  lead  your  life  as  you  wish  it  and  be  one  of  us. 
After  all,  Orkhan  Effendi  is  a  Turk,  and  you  would 
have  to  be  a  Turk's  wife." 

She  rose,  and  as  if  a  light  breeze  had  come  into  the 
room,  there  whispered  the  rustle  of  silk  as  her  at 
tendants  clustered  around  her.  From  her  throat  the 
Turkish  girl  unfastened  a  necklace  and  put  it  around 
Millicent's  neck. 

"That  is  to  remind  you  of  me,  and  to  tell  you  that 
no  matter  what  may  happen  I  shall  be  your  friend." 

Deftly  her  attendants  covered  the  princess  with 
veils  and  silken  wraps  till  she  was  an  unrecognizable 


YOU  ARE  A  WOMAN— AND  SO  AM  I   253 

bundle.  Then  all  swept  Millicent  a  curtsy  and  went 
from  the  room,  leaving  her  alone,  bathed  in  her  golden 
hair  and  with  the  precious  stones  sparkling  at  her 
throat. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

ORKHAN   THE   TURK 

THIS  recent  meeting  of  the  Czar  and  the  King 
of  England,"  Hakir  Pasha  was  saying,  —  "I 
don't  like  it.  I  have  good  reasons  for  believing  that 
it  had  for  object  the  discussion  of  our  unfortunate 
country." 

Ten  of  the  leaders  of  the  Young  Turks  were  assem 
bled  in  Orkhan's  house  on  Princess  Island,  contrary 
to  their  usual  precaution  of  never  coming  together  in 
a  larger  number  than  four.  They  had  come  in  divers 
roundabout  ways,  some  of  them  disguised.  All  were 
visibly  impressed  by  Hakir  Pasha's  words. 

"If  they  decide  to  interfere  with  so-called  plans  for 
reform,"  remarked  Righo, "  a  terrible  obstacle  will  be 
placed  in  the  way  of  our  success." 

"We  must  move  before  they  do,"  Hakir  Pasha 
announced,  his  jaw  thrust  forward.  "If  we  succeed. 
Europe  will  be  outwitted.  If  we  fail  —  Allah  keriml 
What  do  you  say,  Orkhan?"  he  asked,  turning  to 
him. 

He  could  not  have  appealed  to  any  one  more  eager 
to  precipitate  matters.  His  nurse  had  told  him  that 
his  fiancee  had  of  late  become  like  a  tigress.  She  must 
have  got  wind  of  his  visits  to  the  Paparighopoulos, 


ORKHAN  THE  TURK  255 

and  he  felt  as  if  her  vengeance  might  at  any  time 
descend  upon  him  and  Millicent. 

"I  do  not  see  what  we  gain  by  waiting,"  he  replied. 
"All  is  ready,  and  every  day's  delay  only  gives  a 
chance  for  some  mishap  that  we  cannot  foresee." 

The  debate  which  followed  was  short.  To  all  of 
them  action  would  come  as  a  relief  from  the  long 
planning  and  plotting.  The  fight  would  now  be  in  the 
open,  where  men  would  know  their  enemies.  And  the 
recent  harrowing  events  in  Salonica  would  enable 
them  to  make  a  start  there  which  the  Porte  would 
consider  merely  local.  Thus  the  movement  could  not 
get  under  full  headway  before  its  gravity  was  sus 
pected.  They  clasped  hands  and  swore  to  die  before 
surrendering,  and  at  this  instant  they  forgot  their 
mutual  grievance,  and  only  thought  of  the  great 
cause. 

There  came  a  sharp  rap  at  the  door.  The  leaders' 
hands  unclasped,  and  each  one  drew  his  revolver. 

Orkhan  went  to  the  door. 

"Who  is  it?  "he  asked. 

"It  is  I,  Bey  Effendi,"  replied  the  voice  of  one  of 
his  servants.  "We  found  a  man  near  the  house  who 
we  think  is  a  spy." 

Orkhan  opened  the  door  and  a  short,  fat  man  was 
pushed  into  the  room.  His  hands  were  tied  behind 
him,  and  he  had  evidently  been  roughly  handled,  but 
it  was  not  that  which  arrested  attention:  it  was  his 


256        IN   THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

livid  face,  his  eyes  starting  from  their  sockets,  and  the 
fear  which  made  him  tremble  so  violently  that  one 
could  hear  the  chattering  of  his  teeth. 

"I  am  not  a  spy,"  he  screamed.  "I  was  passing 
through  the  short-cut  behind  your  house  to  the  town, 
when  two  men  jumped  out  and  — " 

Orkhan  leaped  at  him  like  a  tiger.  He  had  recog 
nized  the  Armenian  he  had  kicked  into  the  water. 

"Ah!  I  know  you,  you  vermin !"  His  voice  was  not 
loud,  but  there  was  a  deadly  hatred  in  it  which  seemed 
to  shrivel  the  fat  man  up. 

"Effendi,  I  pray  you,  I  am  no  spy,"  he  managed 
to  stammer;  but  Orkhan  cut  him  short. 

With  a  sweep  of  his  arm  he  sent  the  lamp  to  the 
floor,  and,  seizing  the  Armenian,  he  dragged  him  out 
on  the  terrace  and  flung  him  into  the  water  below.  A 
horrible  scream  broke  the  silence  of  the  night.  It  ended 
with  a  splash,  as  the  heavy  body  struck  the  water.  Up 
above  no  one  moved.  Everything  had  taken  place  so 
quickly  that  there  had  not  been  time  for  interference, 
had  any  one  wished  to  interfere.  A  long  time  after  the 
splash  there  came  a  strangled  gurgle  from  the  black 
waters  below.  Then  all  was  silence. 

"Bring  another  lamp,"  said  Orkhan  to  his  servant, 
"and  close  the  curtains  well." 

The  rays  of  the  new  light  shone  upon  the  same  scene 
and  the  same  men  as  before.  Only  the  broken  lamp 
on  the  floor  indicated  the  tragedy  that  had  taken  place. 


ORKHAN  THE  TURK  257 

Orkhan  was  still  breathing  a  trifle  faster  than  usual, 
and  a  dull  red  shone  in  his  cheeks. 

Righo  alone  of  those  present  resented  the  act  of  the 
Turk.  He  was  very  pale,  and  took  a  step  toward  his 
friend. 

"Are  you  mad,  Orkhan?"  he  demanded.  "We  do 
not  punish  with  death  without  proofs,  and  what 
proof  had  you  the  man  was  a  spy?  He  might  have 
been,  as  he  said,  taking  the  short-cut  to  town." 

With  rather  exaggerated  carelessness  Orkhan  re 
plied  :  — 

"Why  make  a  fuss  over  ridding  the  earth  of  one 
more  superfluous  person?  I  disliked  the  man." 

"But,  in  God's  name,  we  cannot  rid  the  earth  of 
those  we  dislike,"  exclaimed  Righo  sternly.  "I  knew 
that  man  —  a  dissipated,  harmless  youth  named 
Kasanzian.  He  subscribed  a  hundred  pounds  to  our 
cause.  I  would  swear  he  was  no  spy.  He  was  rich  and 
did  not  need  money." 

Orkhan  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Well,  perhaps  he  was  no  spy;  but  once  before  he 
came  in  my  path.  Besides,  one  Armenian,  more  or 
less,  what  does  it  matter?  They  are  prolific." 

The  other  leaders  laughed,  even  Hakir  Pasha;  but 
Righo's  stern  face  did  not  relax. 

"What  you  have  done  is  murder,  Orkhan." 

The  Turk  stepped  forward,  towering  over  the  Greek. 
For  a  minute  they  measured  each  other  with  their 


258        IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

eyes.  The  one  short  and  plain,  of  an  old  conquered 
race,  which  even  in  its  decadence  had  avoided  useless 
bloodshed.  The  other,  tall  and  handsome,  of  a  race 
which  even  in  its  zenith  had  always  been  soiled  with 
innocent  blood,  wantonly  shed. 

They  glared  at  each  other,  then  Orkhan  smiled,  and 
putting  his  hand  on  the  Greek's  shoulder,  said  sooth 
ingly:— 

"Are  you  not  making  a  lot  out  of  nothing,  Righo? 
We  are  not  going  to  quarrel,  you  and  I,  over  an 
Armenian." 

Righo  saw  the  futility  of  his  remonstrance,  saw  the 
gulf  which  separated  him,  the  civilized  European, 
from  the  Asiatic,  who  knows  no  pity.  Silently  he  went 
to  his  seat ;  but  during  the  rest  of  the  meeting  he  heard 
nothing  more  of  what  was  said,  for  his  ears  could  hear 
nothing  except  the  agonized  scream,  and  the  splash  in 
the  water. 

W'hen  the  meeting  broke  up,  he  did  not  accept  Ork- 
han's  invitation  to  spend  the  night  with  him,  as  he 
often  did.  Instead,  after  the  usual  precautions  had 
been  taken  to  make  sure  the  house  was  not  watched, 
he  walked  up  the  St.  Nicholas  Road  which  led  to  the 
town. 

The  gay  life  of  the  island  —  the  gayest  of  all  the 
resorts  about  Constantinople  —  was  not  stilled  yet. 
In  the  pine  woods  groups  of  youths  were  playing  on 
stringed  instruments  and  singing  love-songs.  Belated 


ORKHAN  THE  TURK  259 

donkey  excursions  of  Turkish  women  passed,  with 
loud  laughter  and  screams  of  joy;  and  many  carriages 
were  taking  passengers  home  from  the  various  cafes. 

Niko  Paparighopoulos  walked  on,  oblivious  of  all 
the  gayety  around  him.  He  could  only  think  of  the 
poor  human  being  who  that  night  had  ruthlessly  been 
thrown  from  life  into  death.  Till  now  Righo  had  been 
but  a  lukewarm  Greek.  He  loved  his  race,  it  is  true, 
but  he  felt  that  the  attitude  of  his  race  toward  the 
Turk  was  unjust;  that  it  ought  not  to  keep  itself  apart 
from  the  Turk,  but  have  more  community  of  feeling 
with  him. 

To-night  for  the  first  time  he  saw  the  Ottomans  as 
they  were.  The  scenes  of  the  conquest  of  Constanti 
nople  passed  before  his  mind's  eye,  as  if  he  had  seen 
them  himself.  He  saw  the  torrents  of  victorious  Turk 
ish  troops  entering  the  city,  uttering  their  ferocious 
cries  of  "Allah,  il  Allah ! "  and  massacring  all  that  came 
before  them  till  their  lust  for  blood  was  sated.  With 
the  agonized  cry  of  the  Armenian  were  now  mingled 
the  cries  of  women  and  children  who  found  no  mercy 
at  the  hands  of  the  blood-stained  soldiery. 

In  imagination  Righo  lived  over  all  the  horrors 
which  for  days  followed  the  taking  of  Constantinople. 
He  wiped  the  heavy  perspiration  from  his  brow. 

"I  had  forgotten!"  he  murmured.  And  again:  "I 
had  forgotten!" 

The  spirits  of  his  dead  ancestors  became  alive,  and 


260  IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

brought  to  him  fragments  of  the  bloody  deeds  of  the 
Asiatic  conquerors.  And  again  he  heard  the  agonized 
scream  of  the  Armenian,  and  the  thump  of  his  body  as 
it  fell  into  the  dark  sea. 

Righo  shivered. 

"And  that  it  should  be  Orkhan,"  he  said  to  him 
self.  "Orkhan,  whom  I  had  thought  civilized,  and 
whom  I  loved." 

By  a  curious  trick  of  the  mind,  Millicent  came  and 
stood  beside  Orkhan,  and  for  the  first  time  the  Greek 
viewed  with  loathing  the  thought  of  her  union  with 
Orkhan. 

"He  will  be  pitiless  to  her,  when  the  love  he  has  for 
her  shall  be  at  an  end." 

He  felt  that  he  must  warn  her.  She  and  Elpis  were 
spending  a  week's  end  on  Princess  Island,  at  the  Papa- 
righopoulos'  island  villa.  Righo  pulled  out  his  watch. 
It  was  a  quarter  to  one.  "They  may  not  have  re 
turned  from  the  Casino  yet,"  he  thought,  and  walked 
rapidly  toward  the  centre  of  nocturnal  gayety. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  principal  casino  a  friend 
linked  his  arm  in  his. 

"Hullo,  Niko.  If  you  are  looking  for  your  sister  and 
her  guests,  they  have  just  left  here.  I  saw  them  to 
their  carriages  myself." 

"Thanks,  I  was  looking  for  them." 

Springing  into  an  empty  carriage  on  the  stand,  he 
gave  the  order  to  drive  swiftly  to  his  villa.  He  found 


ORKHAN  THE  TURK  261 

Elpis  and  Millicent  together.  The  other  guests  had 
already  gone  to  their  rooms. 

From  his  face  Elpis  knew  that  something  had  hap 
pened. 

"Oh,  Niko!  What  is  it?" 

"I  wish  to  speak  to  Miss  Grey,"  he  answered. 

"Orkhan  is  dead!"  she  said  faintly. 

He  looked  hard  at  her. 

"The  Orkhan  I  loved  and  admired  is  dead;  but 
Orkhan  the  Turk  is  alive." 

Then  he  told  of  the  death  of  the  Armenian. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII 

FREE 

AN  hour  after  Millicent  had  gone  to  her  room,  she 
made  her  way  to  Elpis's  door.  She  was  still 
fully  dressed. 

Softly  she  knocked. 

"Come  in!"  came  the  answer  at  once. 

She  entered,  and  found  the  Greek  girl,  like  herself, 
dressed. 

"I  was  afraid  you  might  have  gone  to  bed.  I  am 
going  out  for  a  walk.  Will  you  come  with  me?" 

Elpis  nodded,  as  if  her  guest  had  made  the  most 
natural  kind  of  request.  She  slipped  her  little  revolver 
into  her  pocket,  and  the  two  started. 

They  went  quietly  through  the  silent  house,  and 
without  arousing  any  one  let  themselves  out  of  the 
front  door  into  the  dark,  cool  night. 

Millicent  walked  faster  than  she  knew,  so  fast  that 
Elpis,  though  a  good  walker,  had  hard  work  keeping 
up  with  her. 

Neither  one  spoke. 

The  road  wound  in  and  out  among  the  hills,  some 
times  through  dense  pines,  blacker  than  the  black 
night  itself;  again  it  came  out  into  the  open,  where  the 
dark  was  more  translucent,  less  opaque;  and  again  it 


FREE  263 

skirted  the  shores  of  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  where  a 
faint  shimmer,  felt  rather  than  seen,  betrayed  the 
water. 

They  roamed  far  and  fast;  but  gradually  the  peace 
of  the  dewy  night  descended  upon  Millicent,  and  she 
walked  more  slowly.  The  sky  overhead  grew  less 
dense.  There  were  little  twitterings  of  birds,  waking 
up  from  their  twigs.  The  eyes  of  the  two  girls,  accus 
tomed  to  the  blackness,  began  to  distinguish  more 
clearly  the  things  they  passed.  And  then  there  crept 
into  the  sky  the  premonition  of  the  dawn. 

Still  they  went  on  in  silence.  Streaks  of  pink  and 
yellow  and  lavender  preceded  the  sun  in  the  heavens. 
Millicent  stopped.  They  were  on  a  little  hill,  and  Elpis 
thought  she  had  never  seen  so  beautiful  a  creature 
as  this  young  figure,  erect,  her  shoulders  thrown  back, 
looking  toward  the  east. 

Millicent  spoke  at  last;  and  the  light  of  dawn  was 
reflected  on  her  face :  - 

"Ah!  the  blessed  sunrise  colors  —  of  hope,  and 
faith  —  and  freedom!" 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

DEFEAT 

THE  killing  of  the  Armenian  troubled  Orkhan  him 
self  not  at  all.  He  did  not  give  another  thought  to 
the  matter.  Indeed,  he  was  fully  occupied  with  the 
contents  of  a  letter  he  had  received  from  Malkhatoun 
telling  him  that  she  had  not  succeeded  in  making 
Millicent  agree  to  their  plans. 

Orkhan  did  not  think  only  of  the  contents  of  the 
letter;  its  writer  received  a  goodly  share  of  his  atten 
tion  —  dark-eyed  Malkhatoun,  whom  he  had  never 
really  seen  until  their  last  interview.  Whenever  the 
fair  face  of  Millicent  came  before  his  mind,  there  was 
always  beside  it  the  darker  one  of  the  other,  as  on  the 
medallion  are  the  profiles  of  Dante  and  Cavalcante. 
He  could  contemplate  with  entire  serenity  the  pair  of 
lovely  girls'  faces.  They  stirred  the  Turk  in  him;  and 
the  Turk  was  so  undeniably  and  vitally  himself  that 
he  experienced  great  pleasure  in  making  his  acquaint 
ance.  He  did  not  worry  about  the  complications  that 
might  arise  out  of  this  pair  of  faces.  He  meant  to 
marry  Millicent  at  once:  the  other  problem  could  be 
confronted  later. 

In  the  thought  of  Millicent  he  did  not  feel  unalloyed 
delight.  He  was  distinctly  annoyed  with  her.  This 


DEFEAT  265 

affair,  he  told  himself,  must  be  settled  one  way  or 
another  at "  once,  and  to  Orkhan  there  was  only  one 
way  —  the  man's. 

Three  days  after  the  death  of  the  Armenian  he  sent 
word  that  he  would  be  at  the  Paparighopoulos  villa. 
His  message  naturally  was  delivered  to  Elpis.  She 
went  to  Millicent,  and  repeated  it  to  her. 

"Would  you  rather  not  — "  she  began  tentatively. 

"No,  I  will  see  him,"  Millicent  interrupted. 

Elpis's  brown  eyes  searched  her  face;  and  the  anxi 
ety  in  them  lessened. 

"You  are  so  superbly  yourself  again,  dear,"  she 
said. 

Something  of  the  same  quality  struck  Orkhan,  in 
spite  of  his  ill-humor,  when  Millicent  came  into  the 
room  and  greeted  him. 

"Mashallah!"  he  murmured,  "such  a  girl  is  worth 
striving  for."  But  he  did  not  say  this  to  her.  Rather 
coldly  he  said:  "I  am  sorry  you  could  not  find  it  in 
your  heart  to  agree  to  go  with  my  cousin  Malkhatoun 
after  you  had  seen  her." 

She  was  very  glad  he  adopted  this  demeanor.  It 
made  her  own  task  easier. 

"It  could  not  be,"  she  replied,  inclining  her  head 
slightly. 

A  flush  mounted  to  Orkhan's  face. 

"Then  our  marriage  — " 


266         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"Our  marriage  can  never  be,"  she  interrupted 
quietly.  "I  don't  know  how  I  ever  thought  we  could 
be  happy  together.  The  barriers  between  us  are  too 
great." 

A  sudden  fear  gripped  him  lest  he  lose  this  being, 
who  had  never  seemed  more  to  be  desired  than  at  this 
minute.  He  forgot  that  he  had  meant  to  be  cold,  and 
a  little  cruel,  to  her. 

"What  barriers?"  he  cried  impetuously.  "What 
ever  they  be  I  will  tear  them  down." 

For  just  an  instant  an  answering  thrill  possessed 
her.  Then  she  mastered  herself. 

"They  are  too  great,  Orkhan  Effendi,"  she  said 
sadly.  "They  are  our  whole  different  civilizations. 
I  am  glad  you  came  to  see  me  to-day ;  for  I  had  to  tell 
you  that,  although  I  have  cared  for  you,  I  can  never 
become  your  wife." 

"  Who  has  put  these  foolish  words  into  your  mouth?  " 
he  asked  passionately.  "What  are  different  civiliza 
tions,  when  you  are  a  woman  and  I  a  man  —  and  we 
love  each  other?" 

Gently  she  shook  her  head. 

"You  are  a  Turk,  and  I  am  a  Christian.  The  piti 
less  way  in  which  you  can  destroy  human  life  taught 
me  the  impassable  differences  between  us.  Three 
days  ago,  with  no  more  compunction  than  if  he  had 
been  a  mouse,  you  killed  a  man." 

'*  You  do  not  call  a  dirty  Armenian  a  man !  Besides, 


DEFEAT  267 

he  was  a  spy,  and  the  captured  spy  suffers  death 
everywhere." 

"Had  you  proof  that  he  was  a  spy?" 

"Well,  perhaps  he  was  not,"  Orkhan  exclaimed  dis 
dainfully.  "He  had  crossed  my  path  once  before,  and 
I  chose  that  he  should  not  do  so  again.  Besides,  a  wo 
man  has  not  the  right  to  discuss  the  acts  of  a  man. 
What  can  she  know  of  things  like  that?  It  is  enough 
for  her  that  a  man  wants  her." 

"It  is  not  enough  for  me,"  Millicent  replied,  "and 
I  cannot  become  your  wife." 

With  a  wave  of  his  hand  Orkhan  brushed  her  words 
aside.  It  came  to  him  that  it  was  only  the  part  of  a 
foolish  man  to  bandy  words  with  a  lovely  woman.  He 
smiled  his  radiant  smile,  and  held  out  his  arms  to  her. 
But  Millicent  stepped  back,  and  when  he  tried  to  take 
her  in  them  with  gentle  force,  he  found  himself  re 
sisted  with  an  uncompromising  strength  he  had  not 
thought  her  capable  of. 

"No!  No!  Orkhan.  Let  me  keep  a  kind  remem 
brance  of  you." 

Orkhan  stared.  But  surely  this  was  the  whim  of  a 
girl,  to  be  coaxed  away  by  the  words  of  a  lover.  It 
was  impossible  that  she  should  defy  him,  this  girl 
whom  he  had  held  trembling  in  his  arms,  and  who,  so 
short  a  time  ago,  had  responded  to  his  love  as  an  ^£o- 
lian  harp  to  the  wind.  Passionately,  incoherently,  he 
pleaded  with  her,  trying  all  the  arts  upon  her  of  which 


268         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

instinctively  he  was  master.  Only  after  many  min 
utes  could  he  believe  that  this  unbelievable  change 
had  come  to  pass:  that  she  had  absolutely  subjected 
the  love  to  which  she  had  once  been  a  slave. 

Orkhan  looked  at  her  as  if  she  were  a  being  from 
another  world.  The  indifference  which  should  follow 
satiety  he  could  have  comprehended,  but  not  the 
strength  which  enabled  her  to  draw  back  from  the 
brimming  cup  of  love  before  it  had  reached  her  lips. 
Then  arose  in  him  the  rage  of  baffled  pride  of  the  con 
quering  man  toward  the  woman  he  cannot  conquer. 
The  thing  which  gnawed  at  the  vitals  of  his  vanity  was 
that  as  a  man  he  had  no  more  power  over  her  as  a 
woman. 

And  then  Orkhan  the  Turk,  with  black  rage  in  his 
heart,  but  with  his  usual  grace  of  movement,  went  out 
of  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XL 

A   COUNTER-MOVE 

I  MUST  go  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  this  after 
noon,"  said  Elpis.  "Would  you  care  to  come?  It  is 
the  Stephanides'  tea  —  and  I  have  n't  seen  Altheon 
for  several  days." 

"  Do  you  mind  if  I  stay  here  and  go  for  a  walk  when 
it  becomes  cooler?  I  have  such  a  curiously  happy  sen 
sation  that  I  want  to  go  out  in  the  open.  It  seems  as 
if  I  needed  all  outdoors  to  realize  my  freedom  in." 

Elpis,  shy  of  caresses,  gave  Millicent  a  little  pat. 

"You  may  do  exactly  as  you  choose,  only  don't 
stay  out  late.  I  shall  be  rather  late  myself,  but  expect 
to  be  back  for  dinner.  We  shall  be  alone.  Niko  has  sent 
word  that  he  has  left  Constantinople  for  a  few  days. 
It  looks  as  if  things  might  happen  any  day  now." 

After  Elpis  had  gone,  Millicent  waited  until  the  sun 
had  almost  set,  then  started  for  the  hills.  Midway 
between  the  Paparighopoulos  villa  and  the  hills  she 
met  a  closed  carriage.  Its  shades  were  drawn  down, 
in  spite  of  the  warm  weather,  and  a  eunuch  sat  on  the 
box  by  the  driver. 

A  quarter  of  a  mile  farther  on  she  met  another  car 
riage,  exactly  like  the  first;  and  just  as  she  reached  the 
hills  a  third,  like  the  other  two. 


270         IN   THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"Poor  things,"  she  thought,  "this  husband  is 
extra  jealous,  and  his  playthings  must  not  be  seen 
driving  in  an  open  carriage,  even  in  their  veils.  But  I 
suppose  they  are  happy,  after  their  own  fashion." 

She  gave  a  little  sigh,  yet  even  with  the  sigh  there 
came  such  a  rush  of  joy  at  her  own  recovered  freedom 
that  she  wanted  to  skip  and  sing  on  the  public  high 
way. 

She  climbed  one  of  the  hills  and  took  her  seat  be 
neath  a  great  pine  to  enjoy  the  panorama  of  the  Bos- 
phorus.  The  twilight  was  coming  on,  and  Millicent 
knew  that  through  the  light  mist  which  would  pre 
sently  thinly  veil  the  landscape,  it  would  acquire  an 
added  enchantment,  like  a  Turkish  coquette  seen 
through  her  diaphanous  yashmak. 

It  was  the  hour  when  Mussulmans  go  indoors  be 
cause  of  their  religion,  and  Christians  because  of  old 
habits  of  fear.  Millicent  for  a  time  had  the  whole 
countryside  to  herself  without  the  disturbing  presence 
of  a  single  other  person. 

Presently  she  was  a  little  disappointed  to  see  a  man 
coming  hurriedly  toward  her.  She  recognized  him  as 
the  Paparighopoulos'  major-domo,  Mitro.  He  was 
running,  and  there  was  that  in  his  manner  that  dis 
quieted  her. 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  went  to  meet  him. 

"What  is  it?  "she  asked. 

Only  after  he  spoke  did  she  realize  that  she  could 


A  COUNTER-MOVE  271 

not  understand  him  any  more  than  he  could  her.  By 
signs  he  indicated  that  she  must  follow  him.  His  face 
was  stern,  and  beads  of  perspiration  stood  on  his  brow. 

She  went  with  him,  fearing  lest  something  might 
have  happened  to  Elpis. 

Down  the  hill  they  hurried.  When  they  came  to 
the  dividing  road  he  motioned  to  her  to  go  by  the  one 
she  had  never  been  before,  instead  of  by  the  usual  way. 

She  hesitated.  Vehemently  he  signed  to  her  to  pro 
ceed,  and  even  laid  his  hand  on  her  arm.  There  was 
no  mistaking  the  earnestness  of  his  wish.  For  an  in 
stant  she  debated  whether  to  go  where  he  indicated 
or  not.  Then  she  remembered  Elpis's  saying  that  she 
trusted  him  as  she  did  her  own  brother,  and  that  his 
integrity  and  courage  were  beyond  question,  and 
decided  the  best  thing  was  to  obey  his  instructions. 

The  road  they  were  now  on  seemed  to  lead  away 
from  home  rather  than  toward  it.  They  walked  swiftly, 
stopping  sometimes  to  listen.  At  one  of  these  stops 
they  heard  the  rumble  of  a  carriage  behind  them. 

The  rumble  ceased,  and  there  was  a  shrill  whistle. 
It  was  answered  by  another  in  front,  though  no  per 
son  or  carriage  was  visible  in  the  uncertain  light. 

Mitro  muttered  something  between  his  teeth,  and 
seizing  her  arm  half  dragged  her  in  among  the  trees  at 
the  side  of  the  road.  Their  footsteps  sounded  pain 
fully  plain  on  the  twigs  and  litter  of  the  woods. 

Mitro  pointed  disapprovingly  at  Millicent's  white 


272         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

dress.  It  would  betray  their  whereabouts  a  long  way 
off.  He  put  her  behind  a  large  tree,  and,  crouching 
down  at  her  side,  peered  forth,  revolver  in  hand. 

The  carriage  drove  past  their  hiding-place,  and 
through  the  fading  light  Millicent  recognized  it  as  one 
of  those  that  had  passed  her  when  she  was  on  her  way 
to  the  hills.  Why  this  should  have  seemed  of  sinister 
import  it  would  be  hard  to  say,  but  Millicent  felt  a 
cold  shiver  run  over  her  at  the  sight,  and  for  the  first 
time  was  afraid. 

After  the  carriage  had  gone  by,  they  resumed  their 
flight,  back  toward  the  hills.  It  was  rough  walking, 
and  Millicent  was  continually  stumbling  over  roots 
or  fallen  branches.  Her  breath  came  fast,  and  she  had 
to  stop  to  rest  a  minute. 

From  his  belt  Mitro  handed  her  a  short  sharp  knife. 
He  made  a  circular  wave  of  his  hand,  as  if  they  were 
surrounded,  and,  raising  his  revolver,  imitated  shoot 
ing  in  all  directions.  Then  he  pointed  to  her,  and 
grimly  made  the  motion  of  stabbing  himself.  The 
girl  smiled.  Things  did  not  seem  to  her  at  such  a  des 
perate  pass  as  that. 

"Orkhan  Effendi!"  Mitro  said. 

"Orkhan  Effendi  yok  fena,"  she  replied  in  her  lim 
ited  Turkish.  She  wished  to  impart  to  Mitro  her  own 
confidence  in  Orkhan. 

Mitro  shook  his  head,  and  in  a  guttural  whisper 
replied :  — 


A  COUNTER-MOVE  273 

"Orkhan  Effendi  —Turk!" 

The  gray  mist  of  the  evening  was  thickening,  and 
to  Millicent's  excited  imagination  the  woods  seemed 
peopled  with  their  pursuers.  She  heard  the  snapping 
of  twigs,  and  often  took  bushes  or  shadows  for  waiting 
men. 

As  the  night  deepened,  it  became  more  difficult  to 
make  their  way.  The  terrors  of  the  unknown  preyed 
on  her  imagination  more  than  any  seen  dangers  would 
have  done.  It  was  past  the  dinner  hour,  and  she 
thought  of  what  Elpis  must  be  suffering  at  her  non- 
appearance. 

Suddenly  four  forms  seemed  to  rise  up  from  the 
ground  before  them.  Mitro  fired,  and  at  the  same 
instant  Millicent  felt  a  pair  of  strong  arms  thrown 
about  her,  pinioning  her. 

"Help!  Mitro!"  she  called. 

He  whirled  and  fired,  so  close  that  the  explosion 
deafened  her;  but  she  was  free  again. 

Then  for  a  few  seconds  there  was  a  demoniac  con 
test  of  shots  and  thrusts  and  hoarse  gruntings,  as  men 
fought  bestially  together. 

Millicent  found  herself  hacking  away  with  her  knife 
with  a  certain  fierce  exhilaration  she  would  not  have 
imagined  possible.  But  again  a  pair  of  black  arms 
gripped  her  tight,  a  shawl  soaked  in  chloroform  was 
thrown  over  her  head,  and  she  was  lifted  and  swiftly 
carried  away. 


CHAPTER  XLI 

THE   SEARCH 

ELPIS  was  detained  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Bosphorus  and  did  not  return  home  until  long 
after  the  dinner  hour. 

"I  hope  you  have  given  Miss  Grey  her  dinner,"  she 
said  to  her  nurse,  who  opened  the  door  for  her. 

"Miss  Grey  is  not  back  —  neither  is  Mitro,"  the 
old  woman  said  in  a  frightened  voice.  "I  thought 
perhaps  you  had  met  somewhere  and  stayed  out 
together." 

Elpis  stood  rigid  for  a  minute,  thinking  hard. 

"Call  Thanasy,  Andrea,  and  Stavro,"  she  said 
sharply. 

Into  the  household  there  had  already  crept  a  feeling 
of  uneasiness,  and  the  coachman  and  the  grooms 
responded  promptly  to  the  summons. 

"Miss  Grey  and  Mitro  have  not  come  back,"  Elpis 
said  tersely.  "It  is  possible  they  have  met  with  foul 
play.  They  went  to  the  hills.  Arm  yourselves,  and 
each  of  you  take  a  horse  and  go  look  for  them.  Than 
asy  follow  the  straight  road,  Andrea  the  first  path  to 
the  right,  and  Stavro  the  crooked  one  to  the  left.  Sad 
dle  Caesarino  for  me.  I  shall  take  the  lower  back  road. 
And  don't  let  any  one  know  what  has  happened." 


THE   SEARCH  275 


"But  had  not  one  of  us  better  go  with  you?"  pro 
tested  Thanasy. 

"  No.  I  can  take  care  of  myself,"  she  replied  curtly. 
"Now  go  at  once." 

The  men  dared  not  disobey  her,  and  went  off  with 
sober  faces  to  saddle  the  horses. 

Elpis  changed  her  afternoon  gown  for  her  riding- 
habit.  She  was  dressed  even  before  the  horses  were 
ready,  and  carried  her  revolver  out  to  the  stable  and 
slipped  it  into  the  holster  in  front  of  her  saddle.  The 
three  men  were  heavily  armed,  for  no  Greek  house 
hold  in  Turkey  is  without  its  arsenal;  and  the  four 
rode  off  into  the  starlit  night. 

When  they  reached  the  first  fork  in  the  road  Elpis 
said :  — 

"Ride  slowly,  and  listen  for  any  sound  from  the 
woods." 

Thanasy,  the  old  coachman,  ventured  one  more 
remonstrance  against  her  going  alone. 

"Thank  you,  Thanasy,"  she  answered  gently, 
"but  only  in  this  way  shall  we  cover  the  whole 
ground.  And  you  know  I  can  shoot  better  than  you 
can." 

She  galloped  off  alone,  down  the  back  road,  Csesar- 
ino,  who  had  not  been  out  for  two  days,  bounding 
wTith  life,  and  shying  at  a  hundred  imaginary  terrors 
of  the  night. 

Presently  she  coaxed  him  down  to  a  walk,  and  now 


276         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

and  again  stopped  to  listen  for  any  sound  from  the 
woods  on  either  side. 

With  the  marvelous  sympathy  of  a  well-bred  horse 
for  the  rider  he  knows,  Csesarino  lost  the  festive  pranc 
ing  step  with  which  he  had  started,  and  walked  along 
with  catlike  care,  his  ears  pricked  forward,  every 
nerve  taut,  and  instantly  ready  for  the  slightest 
signal  from  Elpis.  When  the  slight  pressure  on  the 
reins  bade  him  stop,  he  stood  like  a  statue  of  bronze, 
listening,  not  even  breathing.  Then  he  would  resume 
his  stealthy  walk,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  creep  up  on 
some  one  unaware. 

Suddenly  a  change  came  over  him.  Every  muscle 
in  him  stiffened.  His  neck  arched  itself  into  a  perfect 
bow.  His  head  was  raised  and  his  nostrils  distended. 

"Csesarino,  do  you  see  anything?"  Elpis  whispered, 
leaning  forward  till  her  cheek  nearly  touched  his  neck. 

He  had  stopped,  shivering.  The  slightest  tremor 
on  his  reins,  and  he  would  have  bolted  from  this  terror 
of  the  night. 

"Come,  boy  —  forward!"  Elpis  said,  touching  his 
side  with  her  heel. 

He  did  not  obey,  but  blew  a  blast  of  fear  through 
his  distended  nostrils. 

"Come  on,  boy.  That  is  where  we  must  go,"  Elpis 
urged  gently. 

Quivering  like  an  aspen  —  every  instinct  in  him, 
except  confidence  in  his  rider,  urging  him  to  flight  — 


THE  SEARCH  277 


he  obeyed.  Into  the  woods  they  crept,  peering  for 
ward.  It  was  impossible  to  tell  which  shadow  might 
be  the  most  gruesome  object.  Any  other  horse  than 
this  favorite  of  hers  would  have  refused  to  advance 
against  this  horror  which  he  scented. 

Elpis,  her  revolver  in  her  hand,  and  straining  sight 
and  hearing  to  the  uttermost,  leaned  forward,  her 
lips  parted,  her  head  slightly  on  one  side.  Presently 
she  made  out  what  seemed  to  be  a  patch  of  denser 
black  at  the  foot  of  a  tree.  At  the  same  moment  Cse- 
sarino  reared  so  violently  that  he  almost  unseated  her. 

"Csesarino!"  she  called  sharply;  and  when  he  came 
down  on  all  fours  again  she  felt  his  back  sink  beneath 
her,  as  if  his  limbs  had  turned  to  water,  but  he  did  not 
try  to  run. 

"  Millicent ! "  she  called.  "  Mitro ! " 

There  was  no  answer. 

She  slipped  from  her  saddle,  the  reins  in  her  left 
hand,  and  cautiously  advanced.  Csesarino,  his  head 
close  to  her,  followed  at  her  heels  with  a  low  whinny, 
as  if  he  were  afraid  of  being  left  alone.  The  shadow 
revealed  itself  as  a  heap  of  human  bodies.  They  did 
not  stir  nor  utter  a  sound.  Elpis  grasped  the  top  one 
and  turned  it  over.  It  was  a  eunuch,  stiff  and  stark. 
Shuddering,  she  pulled  away  another.  Beneath  the 
two  lay  Mitro.  She  dropped  on  her  knees,  and  tear 
ing  open  his  shirt  put  her  hand  on  his  heart.  There 
were  several  ghastly  wounds  about  his  shoulders ;  but 


278         IN    THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

he  was  warm  —  not  like  the  others,  and  there  was  a 
faint  flickering  of  his  heart.  She  chafed  his  hands  and 
wrists,  but  could  not  revive  him.  Why  had  she  not 
thought  of  bringing  a  flask  of  brandy  with  her?  Per 
haps  one  of  her  men  had  some.  She  must  summon 
them.  It  might  be  dangerous,  but  there  was  no  help 
for  it. 

She  rose  to  her  feet. 

"Now,  Caesarino,  don't  be  frightened,"  she  said, 
caressing  him. 

Holding  her  revolver  over  her  head  she  fired  twice 
in  to  the  air.  The  horse  started  violently .  Fortunately 
he  had  been  used  to  Elpis's  firing  from  his  back. 

In  only  a  minute  Thanasy  came  tearing  up,  lashing 
his  horse  like  a  demon  to  force  him  against  the  smell 
of  blood. 

"I'm  all  right,  Thanasy.   I  Ve  found  Mitro." 

"Thank  God!   I  thought  — "  He  stopped. 

Even  under  the  circumstances  Elpis  noticed  in 
what  a  suspiciously  short  time  the  old  coachman  had 
appeared. 

"Have  you  any  brandy  with  you?  Mitro  is  uncon 
scious." 

"Yes." 

They  forced  some  of  the  liquor  between  his  lips,  and 
Mitro,  half-reviving,  struggled  to  raise  himself. 

"Be  quiet,  Mitro.  It  is  I,  Elpis.  Where  is  Miss 
Grey?  Did  Orkhan  —  " 


THE   SEARCH  279 


"I  don't  know,"  he  muttered.  "There  were  many 
—  they  attacked  from  all  sides.  They  - 

He  mumbled  a  few  words  more,  incoherently,  and 
again  lost  consciousness. 

"We  must  get  him  home.  They  may  return,"  said 
Thanasy. 

"Get  him  on  your  horse.  I  can  manage  to  mount 
by  myself  afterwards,"  Elpis  commanded. 

Under  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  the  old  man 
lifted  Mitro  and  threw  him  across  the  back  of  his 
frightened  horse  as  if  he  had  been  a  sack  of  corn. 
Then  while  Elpis  held  the  bridle,  he  scrambled  up  into 
the  saddle,  grasped  the  unconscious  man  in  his  arms, 
and  managed  to  prop  him  up  against  himself. 

Elpis  made  a  long  step  to  her  own  stirrup,  and  drew 
herself  up  into  the  saddle  by  the  horns.  Then  taking 
hold  of  the  bits  of  Thanasy's  horse,  she  guided  him 
along,  the  coachman  being  occupied  with  his  burden. 

As  swiftly  as  possible  they  made  their  way  home. 
There  Mitro  was  placed  on  a  bed,  and  Elpis  and  her 
nurse  worked  over  him,  but  without  being  able  to 
rouse  him  to  consciousness. 

When  the  physician  arrived,  Elpis  said  to  him:  — 

"Can  you  revive  him  enough  to  speak  to  me  even 
for  a  minute?" 

The  old  doctor,  who  had  known  Elpis  since  her  child 
hood,  could  tell  from  her  tone  that  the  matter  was  of 
the  utmost  importance. 


280         IN   THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"I  '11  do  what  I  can,"  he  answered. 

He  tried  one  powerful  restorative  after  another,  at 
first  without  success.  Finally  Mitro  moaned,  and 
muttered  something. 

Elpis  leaned  over  him. 

"What  is  it,  Mitro?  Speak  !"  she  commanded. 

"  Orkhan,"  he  muttered.  "There  — were — many — " 
and  again  he  relapsed  into  unconsciousness. 

The  Greek  girl  straightened  herself  up. 

"It  is  enough,  Doctor,"  she  said.  "Do  what  you 
can  for  him.  I  must  leave  you." 

She  went  to  her  own  room,  and  sat  down  at  the 
table,  her  elbows  on  it,  her  head  in  her  hands.  The 
minutes  passed  and  she  did  not  stir.  She  was  think 
ing  hard,  trying  to  find  out  what  was  best  to  do  for 
Millicent. 

If  only  her  brother  were  here !  He  could  go  straight 
to  Orkhan  and  demand  the  return  of  Millicent  —  and 
kill  him  if  he  refused.  But  now  she  had  to  do  every 
thing  herself.  The  idea  of  going  to  the  American  Em 
bassy  suggested  itself  to  her,  but  she  was  afraid  that 
if  matters  passed  into  the  slow  hands  of  diplomacy 
she  might  never  see  Millicent  again  alive. 

She  went  over  and  over  every  possible  place  where 
Millicent  could  be,  sitting  immobile  for  so  long  a  time 
that  one  might  have  thought  she  had  fallen  asleep 
after  the  terrible  fatigues  of  the  day. 

"He  has  taken  her  to  the  Palace,"  she  finally  cried 


THE  SEARCH  281 


with  conviction.  "The  most  dangerous  place  is  the 
safest,  and  it  is  Malkhatoun  who  has  her  in  charge." 

She  thought  of  going  herself  to  the  Palace;  but  if 
Malkhatoun  were  his  accomplice,  she  would  certainly 
be  refused  admission;  and  if  a  hint  of  her  errand  crept 
out,  it  might  mean  even  worse  danger  to  Millicent 
from  the  jealousy  of  Princess  Leila. 

Some  one  else  must  penetrate  into  the  Palace  for 
her,  and  this  some  one  must  be  a  Turkish  lady,  power 
ful  enough  to  be  received,  and  not  a  known  friend  of 
hers. 

Elpis  sat  without  movement  for  half  an  hour. 

"I  must  risk  it,"  she  murmured  at  length. 


CHAPTER  XLII 

A  LEAF  FROM  THE  PAST 

IN  a  rambling  old  wooden  palace,  darkened  by  the 
weather  and  the  years,  and  so  close  to  the  waters 
of  the  Bosphorus  as  to  seem  to  be  floating  on  them, 
lived  a  daughter  of  the  late  Sultan  Aziz. 

In  years  gone  by  she  had  been  famous  for  her 
beauty  and  for  her  daring,  which  defied  even  the 
customs  of  her  race  and  religion.  Her  palace,  then, 
had  been  the  rendezvous  of  the  fiercest  spirits  of 
the  time,  and  had  been  visited  by  many  handsome 
men,  both  Mussulman  and  Christian.  Now  it  stood 
silent  and  gloomy,  its  portals  rarely  opening  to  admit 
strangers;  for  one  day  Death  entered  writh  the  other 
guests  and  when  he  went  away  he  took  with  him  the 
joy  of  the  household,  the  only  child  of  the  terrible 
princess. 

And  to-day,  while  Elpis's  horses  wrere  taking  her  to 
this  old  palace,  the  Sultan's  daughter  was  sitting  cross- 
legged  on  her  divan,  dealing  out  a  pack  of  cards  before 
her.  Three  rows  of  seven  cards  she  laid  down,  face 
upward.  The  rest  she  held  in  the  palm  of  her  left 
hand.  From  a  low  table  near  her  she  took  a  lighted 
cigarette  and  smoked  it,  while  studying  the  cards. 
Laying  the  cigarette  down,  she  turned  up  three  more 


A  LEAF  FROM  THE  PAST  283 

cards  from  the  pack  in  her  hand,  and  placed  them  on 
the  third  card  of  each  of  the  rows. 

"  Vach!  vach!"  she  exclaimed.  "What  is  going  to  hap 
pen  to  me  to-day?  Never  before  did  the  cards  act  like 
this.  Vach!  vach!  What  more  can  happen  to xme,  ex 
cept  death?  But  that  I  have  long  expected,  and  these 
cards  foretell  unexpected  things." 

She  turned  up  one  more  card  —  the  ten  spot  of 
spades  —  and  dropped  the  pack  on  the  floor. 

"Vach!  vach!"  she  wailed,  covering  her  face. 

At  this  instant  the  gusty  wind  outside  drove  the 
rain  fiercely  against  the  window  panes. 

The  Princess  stopped  her  wailing. 

"The  ghouls  and  the  djinns  of  the  graveyard,"  she 
muttered.  "This  is  their  day.  They  have  struck  the 
window  panes.  Have  they  a  message  for  me  from  my 
little  one?" 

She  raised  the  window  and  then  the  cafass,  and 
thrust  her  head  out.  The  rain  struck  her  in  the  face, 
but  she  did  not  notice  it. 

"Any  message  for  me?  "  she  cried.  "Any message?  " 

There  was  no  answer.  Only  the  rain  continued  to 
fall  unmercifully  on  her  gray  head. 

The  brocade  portiere  of  the  room  was  raised,  and 
an  old  eunuch  entered. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  he  demanded  querulously. 
"Get  away  from  that  rain  at  once." 

The  Princess  drew  her  head  back  into  the  room, 


284        IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

and  the  eunuch,  protest  in  every  movement,  noisily 
closed  the  lattice  and  the  window.  Wrathfully  he 
went  into  the  next  room,  returning  with  a  towel,  and 
bade  his  mistress  dry  her  face  and  hair. 

The  Princess  suffered  his  scolding  without  protest. 
Had  he  not  held  her  in  his  arms  when  she  was  a  baby? 
And  had  he  not  endured  all  her  whims  and  caprices 
ever  since?  Moreover,  had  he  not  been  her  confidant 
in  all  her  tempestuous  life? 

"There,  there!"  she  exclaimed,  drying  her  hair; 
"there  is  no  reason  why  you  should  be  so  scoldy  for  a 
little  thing  like  that." 

"You  call  it  a  little  thing,  your  catching  cold?  Be 
sides,  why  did  you  go  and  do  such  a  dreadful  thing 
as  to  send  for  her?" 

"Send  for  whom?"  the  Princess  asked. 

The  eunuch  glared  defiantly  at  his  mistress. 

"Are  you  going  to  deny  that  you  sent  for  her?" 

"When  you  tell  me  whom  you  mean,  I  may  deny  or 
not,  as  I  please." 

The  eunuch  took  a  step  toward  the  Princess,  trying 
to  hold  his  bent  old  body  erect.  Suddenly  he  broke 
into  a  whimper. 

"Why,  to  see  her  will  be  enough  to  kill  you.  It  al 
most  finished  me,"  and  he  fell  at  his  mistress's  feet, 
crying  like  a  child. 

"Yusuf!  My  little  Yusuf!  What  has  happened? 
Who  is  here?" 


A  LEAF  FROM  THE  PAST  285 

The  eunuch  raised  his  head. 

"  Paparighopoulos  Pasha's  daughter  is  downstairs," 
he  wailed,  "with  the  same  face  as  our  little  one  had." 

The  Princess  gasped.  She  clutched  at  her  throat, 
as  if  she  were  choking. 

"Allah,  be  merciful  to  me!"  she  implored.  Then 
to  the  eunuch: "  Yusuf,  you  mean  Xenophon  Effendi's 
daughter?" 

The  eunuch  nodded  strongly.  "  And  her  face  is  that 
of  our  little  one." 

The  daughter  of  Sultan  Aziz  grew  very  pale.  Trem 
bling  shook  her. 

"Water!"  she  begged. 

The  distress  of  his  mistress  brought  the  eunuch  to 
his  senses.  He  filled  a  glass  for  her. 

The  Princess  drank  in  deep  gulps. 

"Where  is  she?"  she  demanded,  as  soon  as  she 
could  speak. 

"Where  else  but  downstairs." 

"  Don't  let  me  see  her,  Yusuf !  Don't  let  me  see  her ! " 

"Then  you  did  not  send  for  her?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

The  eunuch  fell  'into  a  rage.  "She  has  dared,  then, 
all  by  herself!" 

The  Princess  clutched  his  arm.  "You  said  she 
looked  like  my  little  one,  and  you  are  cross  at  her! " 

"I  hate  her,"  he  screamed,  "for  she  is  living,  and 
our  little  one  is  dead." 


286         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

The  Princess  pointed  to  the  rain  outside. 

"It  is  the  day  of  the  ghouls  and  the  djinns  of  the 
graveyard.  We  cannot  send  his  child  away  when  she 
comes  to  us.  Think  of  it,  Yusuf  —  his  child!" 

She  threw  herself  on  the  sofa,  weeping  pitifully. 

"  Xenophon !  Xenophon ! "  she  murmured  tenderly. 
"My  little  daughter  —  my  little  one!" 

For  a  few  minutes  she  abandoned  herself  to  her 
grief.  Then  she  raised  herself  up  with  resolution. 

"Go  bring  her  here,  Yusuf." 

"Are  you  mad?"  the  old  man  demanded.  "It  will 
kill  you.  I  told  you  it  nearly  finished  me.  I  shall  be 
put  to  sleep  in  the  graveyard  to-night." 

"Go  fetch  Xenophon  Effendi's  child,  Yusuf.  You 
must  bring  her  to  me,  and  no  one  else.  Go,  Yusuf." 

With  uncertain  steps  the  eunuch  left  the  room,  and 
shortly  reappeared  with  Elpis. 

The  Greek  girl  salaamed  low,  in  Turkish  fashion, 
to  the  woman  she  had  never  seen,  to  the  woman 
who  had  virtually  killed  her  mother,  who  had  ruined 
her  home,  and  of  whom  she  had  now  come  to  ask 
a  favor. 

After  the  salutation,  the  two  women,  the  old  and 
the  young,  stood  facing  each  other,  in  the  middle  of 
the  room. 

Elpis's  heart  was  beating  fast. 

The  Princess  drew  her  fur  cloak  around  her.  She 
was  shivering. 


A  LEAF  FROM  THE  PAST  287 

"What  do  you  want  of  me?"  she  asked,  her  voice 
harsh  and  strained  in  her  endeavor  to  appear  calm. 

"I  want  your  help,"  Elpis  answered. 

The  Princess  breathed  hard.  Try  as  she  would  she 
could  not  take  her  eyes  from  the  girl's  face.  She  had 
loved  such  a  face  so  fiercely,  so  passionately :  first  in  a 
man,  and  then  in  a  child  —  and  death  had  robbed  her 
of  them  both. 

A  sob  escaped  her,  and  then  she  broke  down. 
She  cried  as  if  her  heart  were  breaking;  and  Elpis,  who 
had  hated  this  woman  ever  since  she  had  known  of  her, 
could  not  help  feeling  sorry  for  her.  Seeing  the  carafe 
of  water,  she  poured  out  a  glass  and  brought  it  to  the 
Princess,  who  took  it  from  her  like  a  child,  and  seemed 
soothed  by  it. 

"Why  do  you  need  my  help?"  she  asked,  still  sob 
bing.  "Are  you  in  trouble?" 

;'Yes.   I  need  your  help." 

"And  you  come  to  me  —  because  —  of  —  your 
father?" 

"No.  I  come  to  you  because  of  my  mother." 

:' Your  mother!  I  do  not  understand.  I  have  never 
known  your  mother.  I  have  never  even  seen  her." 

''You  did  not  have  to  know  her  in  order  to  kill  her. 
She  left  a  diary  for  me  to  read  after  I  was  fifteen. 
There  is  a  debt  you  owe  her  —  and  you  can  pay  it  by 
helping  me." 

The  Princess  trembled.   Had  another  human  being 


288         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

spoken  to  her  thus,  he  would  hardly  have  left  the 
house  alive;  but  Elpis  Paparighopoulos  had  not  only 
the  face  of  her  father,  she  carried  herself  like  him,  and 
the  tones  in  which  she  spoke  were  the  same  tones 
which  years  ago  had  thrilled  the  older  woman  and 
made  her  mad  for  love. 

"Xenophon's  child,  tell  me  what  it  is  you  wish  of 
me." 

She  curled  herself  up  on  the  sofa,  and  motioned 
Elpis  to  sit  beside  her. 

Elpis  did  as  she  was  bid,  and  then,  as  shortly  as  pos 
sible,  explained  to  her  why  she  had  come  to  her.  She 
ended : — 

"  Something  tells  me  that  she  is  in  the  Palace.  Will 
you  help  me  to  find  my  friend?" 

"How  am  I  to  know  her  —  without  asking  ques 
tions  that  would  be  dangerous  to  ask?" 

"From  her  golden  hair;  from  the  pure  light  which 
burns  in  her  gray-blue  eyes;  and  above  all  from  the 
independent  way  she  carries  herself  —  that  of  a  race 
which  has  never  been  conquered.  If  you  find  her,  I 
will  attend  to  getting  her  out." 

The  Princess  dropped  her  head  in  her  hands,  and 
remained  in  this  position  for  a  few  minutes.  When 
she  raised  her  head,  her  face  was  pitifully  white  and 
drawn.  Elpis  had  brought  the  past  too  vividly  before 
her. 

"Are  you  very  fond  of  this  American  girl?"  she 


A  LEAF  FROM  THE  PAST  289 

asked,  not  because  she  wanted  to  know,  but  that  she 
might  again  hear  the  voice  of  the  girl  who  resembled 
her  daughter. 

"  I  love  her."  The  tone  thrilled  the  older  woman. 

"  I  had  a  daughter  once,  younger  than  you,  and  as 
beautiful  as  you  are.  She  is  dead.  Allah  took  her 
from  me  when  she  was  like  an  almond  tree  in  blossom. 
She  was  so  graceful  in  her  youth,  so  pure  in  the  dawn 
of  her  womanhood;  and  every  day  she  lived  she  be 
came  more  perfect.  Allah  gave  her  all  the  gifts,  so 
that  I  might  suffer  the  more  when  he  struck  me." 

She  hid  her  face  in  her  hands  again  and  wept. 

"It  is  because  she  is  dead  that  I  came  to  you." 

The  Princess  took  her  hands  from  her  tear-stained 
face  and  leaned  forward,  searching  the  face  of  Elpis. 

"You  are  very  wise  for  your  age.  How  did  you 
come  by  so  much  wisdom?" 

"I  am  motherless.   I  had  to  learn  for  myself." 

"I  shall  help  you,  young  hanoum,  but  not  because 
of  your  mother;  for  my  debt  to  her  I  paid  long  ago." 

She  stopped  speaking  and  gazed  before  her,  her 
eyes  dark,  with  a  light  in  them  of  fear  and  horror. 

"Yes,  I  have  paid  the  debt  I  owed  your  mother." 

She  pulled  a  bell-rope,  and  the  eunuch  answered  it. 

"Bring  me  the  secret  coffer." 

She  covered  her  face  again,  and  remained  thus  until 
the  eunuch  placed  before  her  a  small  strongbox  of 
Oriental  device. 


290         IN    THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"You  can  go,  Yusuf." 

She  unlocked  the  box,  and  from  a  secret  drawer 
took  out  what  looked  like  a  bejeweled  cigarette  case. 
From  this  she  brought  forth  half  a  dozen  letters,  yellow 
with  years.  One  by  one  she  read  them  over,  and  put 
them  back  again  in  the  case. 

"Take  this,  Xenophon's  child,  and  when  you  are 
alone  and  locked  in  your  room,  read  them,  and  burn 
them.  They  may  not  be  safe  in  your  keeping.  They 
were  found  in  your  father's  hunting-lodge  in  Thessaly 
after  he  had  been  made  a  prisoner  on  suspicion  of  be 
ing  connected  with  the  uprising  in  Macedonia.  The 
man  who  was  sent  by  the  Sultan  to  find  these  papers 
was  in  love  with  me  —  and  I  loathed  him.  He  brought 
them  to  me.  My  mother  was  a  Mussulman  Cretan 
and  had  taught  me  to  read  Greek.  I  read  these  letters 
and  knew  what  it  would  mean  to  Xenophon's  children 
if  they  were  ever  brought  to  light.  It  is  because  I 
bought  these  letters  from  the  man  —  at  his  own  price 
—  that  you  still  are  what  you  are.  Otherwise  you 
would  to-day  be  one  of  those  thousand  nameless  wo 
men  who  get  their  living  from  the  gutters  of  this  piti 
less  city.  Yes,  I  have  paid  my  debt  to  your  mother  at 
a  cost  which  may  you  never  know." 

She  held  out  the  jeweled  case  to  Elpis. 

"Take  them,"  the  Princess  continued.  "Allah 
might  have  been  mollified  by  my  sacrifice,  but  he  was 
not." 


A  LEAF  FROM  THE  PAST  291 

Elpis,  with  the  case  in  her  hand,  was  hardly  listen 
ing  now.  A  joyous  hope  was  in  her  heart  for  reestab 
lishing  her  faith  in  one  whom  she  had  loved  and  in 
whose  honor  she  had  lost  faith. 

"Then  my  father  did  not  die  because  he  loved  you?  " 
she  asked,  her  breath  coming  quickly. 

"No.  The  man  who  found  these  letters  told  the 
Sultan  he  had  found  nothing;  and  the  government 
meant  to  torture  your  father  to  obtain  from  him  the 
names  of  those  who  had  conspired  in  Macedonia.  I 
knew  this.  In  the  dead  of  night,  Yusuf  and  I  managed 
to  get  to  him  in  his  prison.  When  we  left  him  he  was 
beyond  the  power  of  the  Sultan's  torturers." 

Elpis,  who  had  not  cried  since  she  was  a  child,  min 
gled  her  tears  with  those  of  the  older  woman.  They 
were  very  near  together,  this  Greek  girl  and  this  Otto 
man  princess.  And  being  women,  they  understood 
many  things  that  there  was  no  need  of  saying. 

"Go  now,  Xenophon's  child,"  the  Princess  said  at 
last.  "  I  shall  pay  a  visit  to  the  Palace  to-day.  Do  not 
come  here  again.  I  will  let  you  know  how  I  succeed." 

When  Elpis  wras  back  in  her  own  room,  with  locked 
door,  she  took  out  the  letters  from  the  bejeweled  case 
and  read  them.  And  as  she  did  so  a  wondrous  light 
came  into  her  face. 

"My  father!"  she  murmured.  :'Then  you  did  die 
for  Greece !  You  did  die  for  the  freedom  of  your  coun 
try!" 


IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

She  kissed  the  letters. 

"Millicent,"  she  whispered,  "if  you  only  knew 
what  peace  you  have  brought  to  my  heart.  I  have 
lived  all  these  years  under  a  cloud  of  shame,  disown 
ing  my  own  father  in  my  heart,  and  because  of  you  I 
get  him  back  a  hero." 

She  read  the  letters  once  more.  Then  lighted  a  can 
dle,  and  one  by  one  burned  them  over  it.  To  the  last 
black  ashes  she  spoke:  — 

"What  a  sword  of  Damocles  you  were,  and  we  did 
not  even  know  it." 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

THE   CHILDREN   OP   THE   TURKS 

ORKHAN  in  his  disguise  stood  in  Malkhatoun's 
room,  by  the  latticed  window,  waiting  for  her. 
The  sun  was  setting,  and  the  sky  outside  was  a  mass 
of  iridescent  black  clouds,  lined  with  fiery  red. 

A  rustle  of  silk,  a  light  step,  and  Malkhatoun  was 
in  the  room. 

Orkhan  turned  around  and  filled  his  eyes  with  the 
sight  of  the  girl  who  was  helping  him  to  forget  Milli- 
cent.  Ever  since  the  last  time  he  had  been  here  and 
had  become  aware  of  her  womanliness,  her  image  had 
stayed  with  him.  Seeing  her  again  she  was  fairer  than 
his  remembrance  of  her,  and  dearer  than  when  she 
had  come  to  him  in  spirit. 

"Allah  be  with  thee,  cousin,"  the  girl  said,  con 
scious  of  his  burning  glance. 

"Allah  is  always  with  thee,"  he  responded;  "and 
since  I  am  near  thee,  I  am  near  Allah." 

''You  are  extravagant,  cousin." 

"How  can  I  be  extravagant,  when  it  is  impossible 
even  to  be  just.  The  human  language  is  not  intended 
to  describe  heavenly  beings." 

The  blush  deepened  on  Malkhatoun's  face.  This 
was  a  new  Orkhan  speaking;  and  the  light  in  his  eyes 


294         IN   THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

added  fuel  to  the  fire  in  her  own  heart.  Yet  she  did 
not  dare  to  understand  what  another  woman  might 
have  let  herself  understand. 

"As  soon  as  I  heard  of  your  return  to  town  I  sent 
for  you  on  a  matter  which  concerns  you  deeply,"  she 
said. 

"I  would  that  you  had  sent  for  me  on  a  matter 
which  concerned  you  deeply,"  he  replied. 

His  tone  and  his  words  disconcerted  her.  She  has 
tened  on:  — 

"Cousin,  Princess  Leila  is  holding  Melisande  Ha- 
noum  prisoner.  I  fear  she  means  to  hurt  her." 

"Ah!"  Orkhan  commented.  With  rather  exag 
gerated  indifference  he  added,  "What  an  absurd  per 
son  Princess  Leila  is  becoming." 

Malkhatoun  had  expected  an  outburst  at  her  news, 
and  was  disappointed  at  his  careless  reception  of  it. 

"I  no  longer  care  forMillicent  Hanoum,"  he  went 
on,  noticing  the  wonder  in  Malkhatoun's  eyes.  "I 
know  now  that  she  is  incapable  of  love,  and  therefore 
my  own  is  dead." 

"She  is  a  woman  of  a  different  race  from  us,"  pro 
tested  Malkhatoun  generously.  "They  do  not  obey 
their  instincts  —  they  obey  their  minds  more.  Per 
haps  they  do  not  understand  love  as  we  do.  When  we 
love,  we  belong  wholly  to  our  lord  —  he  becomes  our 
religion.  If  he  loves  us,  we  are  willing  to  give  eternity 
for  one  moment  with  him.'! 


THE   CHILDREN  OF  THE  TURKS    295 

She  ended  passionately,  her  little  hands  clasped  over 
her  heart.  The  veil  on  her  head  had  fallen  back,  and 
the  long  loose  cloak  had  half  dropped  from  her  shoul 
ders.  The  light  of  the  afterglow  filled  the  room  and 
fell  upon  her  white  throat  and  her  face,  already  lighted 
by  the  feeling  which  was  consuming  her. 

Orkhan,  feasting  his  eyes  on  her  beauty,  and  drink 
ing  in  her  words,  was  overcome  by  a  rage  of  jealousy. 
From  the  moment  he  had  learned  that  he  wanted 
Malkhatoun,  he  had  thought  of  her  as  his  own;  and 
to  hear  her  speak  thus  of  love  set  him  on  fire  with  sus 
picion. 

"Who  taught  you  to  know  love?"  he  demanded 
fiercely. 

She  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  lest  he  should  read 
the  truth  in  it. 

Orkhan  snatched  away  her  hands,  and  searching 
her  very  soul  with  his  gaze,  repeated :  — 

"Tell  me!  Who  taught  you  to  love?" 

"Love  himself,"  she  answered. 

"Malkhatoun,  for  you  to  know  all  this,  a  man  has 
come  into  your  life." 

"What  does  it  matter  to  you,  cousin?  You  did  not 
even  know  that  I  had  grown  to  be  a  woman." 

"I  know  it  now,"  he  answered  hoarsely. 

She  freed  her  hands  from  his,  afraid  to  guess  his 
meaning,  yet  longing  to  hear  the  words  which  in  her 
most  daring  dreams  she  had  not  hoped  for. 


296         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

He  recaptured  her  rose-scented  hands  and,  holding 
them  palm  up,  kissed  them.  Her  slender  frame  trem 
bled,  and  he,  drawing  her  so  close  to  him  that  their  lips 
almost  met,  imperiously  demanded:  — 

"Who  is  the  man  you  love?" 

His  tone  enthralled  the  girl,  who  had  loved  him  so 
long,  with  so  little  hope.  Still  she  thirsted  to  hear  his 
words,  before  she  gave  him  hers. 

"Why  do  you  wish  to  know?  Why  do  you  care?" 

"Because  I  love  you!  Because  I  want  your  love  in 
return.  Tell  me  who  is  the  man?" 

"You,  Orkhan.  It  has  always  been  you,  even  when 
I  did  not  exist  for  you." 

"You  have  always  existed.  I  carried  you  with  me 
in  my  heart  without  knowing  it.  Even  when  I  loved 
the  girl  from  the  West,  you  came  and  took  your  place 
by  her  side.  I  love  you,  Malkhatoun." 

He  drew  her  nearer  to  him,  and  making  a  ring  of  her 
arms,  placed  them  around  his  neck.  Then,  nestling 
her  head  on  his  breast,  he  enveloped  her  with  his  arms 
and  inhaled  the  perfume  of  her  hair  and  of  her  throat. 

Thirsting  to  hear  words  of  devotion  which  would  be 
balm  to  his  recent  wound  and  would  help  to  reestab 
lish  his  pride  in  himself  as  a  conquering  man,  he  asked: 
"And  are  you  wholly  mine?" 

''Yours,  Orkhan,  as  the  flower  belongs  to  its  stem, 
as  the  star  belongs  to  the  firmament.  Yours ,  lord  of  my 
life,  to  do  with  as  you  please." 


THE   CHILDREN  OF  THE  TURKS    297 

Yet  even  now  she  remembered  that  it  was  for  Milli- 
cent  she  had  sent  for  him.  She  disengaged  herself 
from  his  arms. 

"My  lord,  I  sent  for  you  because  of  MelisandeHa- 
noum.  She  is  a  prisoner  —  perhaps  in  great  danger. 
What  must  I  do?" 

"Why  trouble  about  her?"  he  replied,  essaying  to 
draw  her  to  him  again. 

Through  the  fire  in  Malkhatoun  a  cold  shiver 
passed  at  his  egotism.  But  womanlike  she  would  not 
permit  herself  to  think  ill  of  the  man  she  was  making 
her  god. 

"My  lord,  we  must  think  of  her." 

"Very  well!  When  we  become  masters  here,  you 
may  keep  her  as  your  slave,  if  you  like." 

"She  is  not  ours  to  dispose  of,  my  lord.  It  is  be 
cause  we  brought  it  upon  her  that  she  is  now  in  dan 
ger.  I  cannot  be  happy  till  she  is  free,  and  out  of  the 
Palace." 

Orkhan  laughed. 

"Malkhatoun,  my  little  Malkhatoun,  you  are  jeal 
ous  of  her  —  you!  you!  my  queen!" 

"My  lord,  I  love  you  above  jealousy  and  above 
meanness.  When  you  came  to  ask  my  help  to  get  her, 
I  already  loved  you.  Still,  I  worked  to  give  you  as 
wife  the  woman  you  wanted  —  myself  without  hope. 
If  you  desired  her  again,  I  should  again  help  to  make 
her  yours.  It  is  not  for  me  who  love  you  to  deny  you 


298         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

anything,  even  if  its  gratification  should  mean  death 
for  me." 

Her  nobility  awed  him. 

"Forgive  me,  Malkhatoun.  I  will  do  what  you 
wish,  only  you  must  wait  twenty -four  hours.  Even  at 
this  minute  I  ought  not  to  be  here;  but  I  could  not 
keep  myself  from  coming  when  you  sent  for  me." 

"Are  things  near  a  crisis,  my  lord?" 

He  nodded.   "We  shall  strike  in  two  days." 

"Inshallah!  Inshallah!"  the  girl  prayed. 

"And  you  know  what  that  will  mean,  houri  of  my 
earthly  heaven.  It  will  mean  that  I  can  make  you 
mine  —  absolutely  mine." 

"I  am  that  now,  my  master.  But  since  go  you 
must,  you  had  better  go  now,  my  lord."  Taking  one 
of  his  hands  in  each  of  hers,  she  led  him  to  the  door, 
and  called  for  the  slaves.  "Go,  my  lord." 

After  he  was  gone  she  walked  slowly  back  to  the 
window.  The  gorgeous  colors  of  the  afterglow  were 
sobered.  Only  small  patches  of  yellow  and  rose  were 
strewn  here  and  there  on  the  gray-blue  sky,  like 
flower  petals  scattered  by  the  wind. 

"I  should  have  liked  him  more  generous  toward 
the  woman  he  once  loved,"  she  murmured. 

Her  happiness  was  marred  by  this  cruelty  to  that 
other  woman;  but  she  resolutely  closed  the  door  to 
her  heart  which  admitted  heresies  toward  her  lord. 
She  found  excuse  for  him  because  Millicent  had  made 


THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  TURKS     299 

him  suffer.  She  thought  of  the  American  girl's 
dreams  and  aspirations.  Love  was  not  all  in  Milli- 
cent's  life,  neither  was  it  in  that  of  Elpis.  She  tilted 
her  head  to  one  side  and  pondered  deeply  on  life  as 
these  other  two  saw  it. 

All  color  had  disappeared  from  the  sky.  A  silver- 
gray  mist  hung  between  heaven  and  earth. 

Malkhatoun's  soul  rose  in  prayer. 

"Allah!  they  may  be  right,  and  they  may  be  great, 
those  two  girls  of  the  West;  but  oh!  Allah,  my  creator, 
I  thank  thee  for  making  me  just  a  woman." 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

THE   CHILDREN   OF   THE   GREEKS 

fTHHE  master  has  returned,  Miss  Elpis.  He  has  gone 
I  to  his  rooms,  and  asked  not  to  be  disturbed." 

"Thank  heaven,  he  is  back." 

She  went  immediately  to  her  brother,  and  found 
him  writing.  He  rose  on  her  appearance,  with  a  slight 
frown. 

"I  am  sorry,  Niko,  but  it  was  of  the  utmost  import 
ance  that  I  should  see  you  at  once.  Millicent — J> 
She  stopped,  struck  by  his  appearance.  He  seemed  so 
old  and  careworn.  "Niko,  how  tired  you  look."  She 
put  her  hand  on  his  forehead.  "  You  are  feverish,  too, 
dear." 

"I  have  hardly  slept  since  I  left  here." 

"You  must  not  work  yourself  to  death,  Niko." 

"It  is  not  work  that  pulls  one  down,  —  enthusiasm 
takes  the  hardship  out  of  work,  —  it  is  lost  confi 
dence,  disillusionment." 

"Have  the  plans  miscarried  again?"  she  asked  in  a 
low  tone. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  The  plans  are  all  right.  If  nothing  new  goes  wrong, 
the  Young  Turks  will  be  masters  here  in  two  weeks." 

"Then,  what  is  it,  Niko?" 


THE   CHILDREN  OF  THE   GREEKS    301 

"I  have  lost  my  faith  in  Orkhan,  and  mistrust  the 
intentions  of  the  Turks  toward  the  Christians." 

"You  ought  never  to  have  believed  much  in  them, 
and  you  ought  not  to  have  made  of  Orkhan  a  sort  of 
demigod,  as  you  did." 

" He  had  always  shown  himself  so  fine;  but  since  the 
night  he  killed  the  Armenian  a  curtain  has  dropped 
between  what  he  appeared  to  be  and  what  he  is.  We 
had  a  discussion  two  nights  ago,  and  he  clearly  told 
me  that  the  Young  Turks  had  no  intention  of  letting 
Crete  go  —  and  that  he  had  come  to  think  they  were 
right.  And  he  had  sworn  it  to  me,  and  on  that  pro 
mise  the  money  was  raised  among  the  Greeks.  Life 
contains  so  little  when  one  loses  faith  in  the  man  with 
whom  one  has  worked  for  years." 

"  Brother,  have  you  given  him  most  of  your  money  ?  " 

"  No.  I  gave  him  most  of  my  income,  but  the  prin 
cipal  is  intact.  I  was  just  engaged  on  that  when  you 
came  in.  I  have  a  presentiment  that  I  had  better 
put  my  affairs  in  order.  Some  years  ago  I  made  a  will 
leaving  most  of  what  I  had  to  Orkhan  to  be  used  for 
the  cause.  I  am  revoking  that  will,  and  shall  leave 
everything  to  you,  to  use  for  whatever  purpose  you 
think  best.  It  is  all  in  foreign  securities,  with  the 
Bank  of  England." 

"Thank  you.  brother.  We  need  money.  We  need 
better  schools  than  we  have;  and  above  all,  the  Greek 
boys  need  military  training." 


302         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

A  significant  glance  passed  between  brother  and 
sister,  and  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives  both  had 
only  one  thought  —  the  fear  of  the  Turk  for  their 
nation. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  the  old  nurse 
came  in  with  a  letter. 

"The  messenger  said  it  was  urgent." 

She  gave  it  to  Elpis  and  left  the  room. 

The  girl  tore  it  open  and  hastily  read  it. 

"It  is  this  I  came  to  see  you  about,"  she  said,  when 
she  had  finished  it.  "Millicent  was  carried  off,  three 
days  ago  - 

"Orkhan!"  Righo  cried,  starting  up. 

"No.  I  thought  so,  too,  until  this  letter  came.  It 
is  — "  she  hesitated  —  "it  is  from  a  Turkish  princess 
I  know.  Listen :  - 

'Your  friend  is  in  the  haremlik  of  Princess  Leila. 
I  came  by  the  knowledge  only  yesterday.  It  may  be 
possible  to  rescue  her  to-night.  I  send  you  the  key  to 
a  little  gate  in  the  Palace  wall.  At  ten  o'clock  count 
three  hundred  paces  northward  from  the  southeast 
corner  of  the  wall.  There,  there  is  a  clump  of  four 
large  cypresses.  From  then  on,  at  intervals,  are  sin 
gle  cypresses,  close  to  the  wall.  Opposite  the  twenty- 
first,  after  the  clump  of  four,  is  a  little  gate,  half  hid 
den  beneath  a  tangle  of  vines.  It  opens  inward,  and 
this  key  will  unlock  it.  A  guide  will  be  waiting,  a 
trusted  eunuch  of  ours.  Send  two  men  only,  armed 


—  steel  is  best.  They  may  succeed  —  or  they  may 
die.  Allah  alone  knows." 

Elpis  folded  up  the  letter  without  reading  the  sig 
nature. 

"Two  men,  did  she  say?"  mused  Righo.  "Mitro 
and  I  will  go." 

"  Poor  Mitro,  how  he  would  have  liked  it." 
'  Would  have  liked  it ! '  -  -  but  why  can't  he  come?  " 

"He  was  with  Millicent  the  day  she  was  kidnaped 
and  they  left  him  for  dead,  after  he  had  killed  two  of 
them.  He  is  not  out  of  danger  yet.  It  is  pathetic, 
Niko,  to  hear  him  beg  me  not  to  let  him  die.  'Miss 
Elpis,'  he  cries,  'even  Hell  would  not  have  me,  an 
Albanian,  if  I  were  killed  by  eunuchs." 

Into  Righo's  weary  face  came  a  smile  at  this  char 
acteristic  utterance. 

"Let  me  see,  then;  whom  shall  I  take  with  me?" 

"Won't  you  let  Euripides  Stellos  go  with  you?  He 
has  been  a  comfort  to  me  in  this  trouble." 

Righo  gave  a  quick,  questioning  glance  at  his  sister, 
but  she  shook  her  head. 

"Will  you  make  all  the  arrangements,  Elpis?  I 
must  spend  the  whole  of  the  day  settling  my  af 
fairs." 

"Very  well,  Niko.  I  will  send  for  Euripides  Stellos 
at  once.  It  would  be  wise  for  him  to  go  and  recon 
noitre.  It  will  facilitate  your  manoeuvres  at  night." 

She  rose  and  kissed  her  brother  on  the  forehead. 


304         IN  THE  SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

She   wished    to   tell   him   about   their   father,   but 
changed  her  mind  and  went  from  the  room. 

At  ten  o'clock  that  night,  Righo  and  Euripides  were 
creeping  along  the  wall  of  the  Palace,  counting  the 
cypresses  under  their  breath.  The  new  moon  had  set 
hours  before,  and  clouds  shut  off  even  the  faint  light 
of  the  stars. 

In  the  dark,  and  in  the  vagueness  of  thought  which 
the  dark  induces,  they  feared  lest  they  had  made  a 
mistake  in  the  counting. 

"Do  you  make  this  the  twen ty -first ?"  whispered 
Righo,  stopping. 

"Yes,"  Euripides  replied.  "I  could  n't  see  the  gate 
at  all  when  I  came  to  reconnoitre  this  afternoon.  It 
must  be  under  this  clump  of  vines." 

With  considerable  difficulty  they  found  the  door  in 
the  wall,  and  cautiously  inserted  the  key.  The  hinges 
creaking  slightly,  they  opened  it  and  stepped  inside. 

The  black  form  of  a  eunuch  appeared  before  them. 

"I  am  to  conduct  you,"  he  said  softly. 

They  followed  him.  He  did  not  take  any  path,  but 
walked  noiselessly  over  the  grass,  in  and  out  among 
the  trees.  The  Greeks  tried  to  preserve  some  idea  of 
direction,  in  case  flight  became  necessary;  but  soon 
lost  all  sense  of  this,  and  had  to  trust  entirely  to  their 
guide. 

The  light  night  breeze  was  murmuring  through  the 


THE   CHILDREN   OF  THE   GREEKS    305 

trees  and  bushes,  filling  the  air  with  obscure,  terrify 
ing  noises  that  might  mean  anything  or  nothing.  The 
life  of  the  Palace  was  not  yet  asleep.  This  time  was 
better  than  a  later  would  be.  If  seen  now,  they  might 
be  mistaken  for  some  who  had  business  in  the  Palace 
grounds.  There  were  lights  in  various  palaces,  and  the 
sound  of  laughter  and  talking  floated  out  on  the 
vagrant  breeze. 

Their  guide  stopped,  near  one  of  the  palaces,  and 
motioned  to  them  to  squat  down  among  a  clump  of 
bushes.  For  fifteen  minutes  they  waited.  Then  there 
appeared  two  candles  in  a  window. 

"Everything  is  going  well,"  the  eunuch  whispered. 
"Now  we  must  wait  until  a  third  candle  is  placed  by 
the  other  two." 

A  long  half-hour  dragged  away.  No  third  candle 
was  lighted  beside  the  two.  Righo  and  Euripides  be 
came  more  and  more  impatient;  but  the  eunuch 
remained  stolidly  squatting  among  the  bushes,  and 
showed  no  sign  of  anxiety. 

"Ah!"  breathed  Righo,  as  finally  a  slave  came  to 
the  unlatticed  window. 

She  peered  out  into  the  night  as  if  she  would  fain 
pierce  its  blackness  where  everything  must  be  invisi 
ble  to  her.  Then,  leaning  down,  she  blew  out  one  of 
the  candles,  and  then  the  other. 

The  Greeks  caught  the  sinister  import  of  the  act 
even  before  the  eunuch  muttered  excitedly:  — 


306        IN   THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"Something  has  gone  wrong!" 

Still  they  waited,  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  dark, 
where  the  two  candles  had  shone,  hoping  against  hope 
that  they  would  be  relighted. 

They  had  not  yet  made  up  their  minds  to  abandon 
their  undertaking  when  a  shadowy  form  emerged 
suddenly  from  the  darkness. 

"  Where  are  you,  Senih?"  whispered  a  girl's  voice. 

"Here  I  am,"  the  eunuch  whispered. 

"Princess  Leila  was  restless  to-night,  and  she  sent 
for  the  American  slave  to  come  and  talk  to  her.  You 
had  better  --  Hush!" 

She  faded  away  into  the  night  as  silently  as  she  had 
come.  At  the  same  instant  the  eunuch  grasped 
Righo's  arm  convulsively. 

"Run  to  the  gate!"  he  said  in  an  agonized  whisper. 
"The  Palace  guard  is  coming." 

At  home  Elpis,  for  one  of  her  nature,  was  having  a 
harder  task  than  the  men  —  inactivity.  She  had 
wished  to  go  with  them,  at  least  as  far  as  the  gate;  but 
Righo  would  not  hear  of  this.  In  spite  of  all  he  knew 
of  his  sister,  he  could  not  get  over  the  idea  that  the 
woman's  place  was  in  the  house  to  wait,  while  the  man 
acted.  And  for  once  she  was  obliged  to  give  in,  since 
he  refused  to  go  unless  she  promised  to  remain  at 
home. 

The  hours  of  the  night  dragged  slowly  on.  Reading 


or  needlework  was  impossible  for  her.  She  roamed 
about  the  house;  then  out  into  the  garden,  and  down 
to  the  Bosphorus,  where  the  little  waves,  flapping 
against  the  landing,  mocked  at  her.  Her  fears  were 
less  for  Righo  and  Euripides  than  for  Millicent.  How 
had  she  been  treated  in  the  Palace?  What  had  Prin 
cess  Leila  done  to  her?  Had  she  disfigured  her?  Such 
a  thing  was  quite  possible. 

Elpis  could  not  help  thinking  that  all  the  danger 
Millicent  was  now  in  was  partially  her  fault.  If  Milli 
cent  had  not  come  on  this  visit,  she  would  probably 
not  have  seen  Orkhan  Effendi  again.  But  since 
Millicent  had  seen  him,  she,  Elpis,  ought  to  have 
taken  better  care  of  her. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  short  summer  night,  Elpis, 
standing  on  the  eastern  terrace,  heard  the  sound  of 
men's  feet  coming  slowly  and  shuffingly  up  from  the 
boat  landing.  She  did  not  move  to  go  to  them.  A 
premonition  came  over  her  that  something  dreadful 
had  happened.  Still  as  a  statue  she  stood  in  the  faint 
gray  light.  Four  men  were  carrying  a  body  up  the 
path.  Behind  them  walked  Euripides,  his  bared  head 
bowed.  When  he  came  near  Elpis,  he  looked  up  as  if 
he  knew  she  would  be  there,  waiting,  and  made  a  gest 
ure  of  despair. 

The  men  carried  the  body  into  the  large  drawing- 
room  and  laid  it  on  a  couch.  Elpis  came  and  kneeled 
down,  and  took  the  face  of  her  dead  brother  between 


308         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

her  hands,  and  kissed  it  over  and  over  again.  The 
tears  flowed  silently.  At  last  she  began  to  talk  to  him. 

"Oh,  Niko  dear!  And  I  did  not  tell  you  about 
father,"  she  whispered,  as  if  he  could  still  hear  her. 
"Brother,  he  died  endeavoring  to  free  Macedonia. 
His  death,  like  yours,  was  a  noble  one." 

She  kissed  his  eyes  and  his  brow  and  his  lips,  giving 
him  the  many  tender  names  she  had  given  him  when 
she  was  a  child  and  worshiped  him  without  any  criti 
cism. 

Euripides  stood  silently  by,  his  heart  bleeding  at 
the  grief  he  was  unable  to  lessen.  He  wished  that  he 
were  in  her  brother's  place.  Then  she  might  have  been 
sorry  for  him.  She  might  have  cried  for  him.  She 
might  even  have  kissed  him,  dead. 

At  last  Elpis  looked  up  at  him. 

"Tell  me,  Euripides,  how  it  all  happened." 

She  listened  while  in  a  muffled  voice  he  described 
the  failure  of  their  plans,  to  the  time  when  the  candles 
were  blown  out.  He  continued:  — 

"Then  the  guards  surprised  us.  We  ran  for  the 
little  gate,  and  had  almost  reached  it  when  we  found 
some  eunuchs  between  us  and  it.  Our  guide  deserted 
us.  Righo  and  I  fought  our  way  on.  Then  he  fell.  The 
others  caught  up  with  us.  I  beat  them  off,  and  carried 
Niko  through  the  gate  and  along  the  wall,  till  the  men 
we  had  left  with  the  horses  heard  the  noise  and  came 
to  our  help." 


THE   CHILDREN  OF  THE   GREEKS    309 

He  had  spoken  simply,  like  a  child  telling  why  he 
has  failed  to  execute  an  errand. 

"And  you  carried  Niko,  while  fighting  for  your 
life?"  asked  Elpis  very  gently. 

"But  you  would  have  grieved  if  his  body  were  left 
in  their  hands,"  he  replied. 

"Yes,  I  should." 

She  looked  at  him  as  if  seeing  him  for  the  first  time. 
She  noticed  his  torn  clothes,  his  bandaged  head,  and 
the  limp  way  in  which  one  of  his  arms  was  hanging  by 
his  side. 

"Euripides,"  she  said  slowly,  "I  do  not  have  in  my 
heart  for  you  what  I  think  a  woman  ought  to  feel  for 
the  man  she  marries ;  but  if  you  want  me,  I  will  marry 

you." 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  him  across  her  brother's 
dead  body. 

Euripides  took  it  and  raised  it  to  his  lips. 

Her  willingness  to  pay  with  herself  for  what  he  had 
done  for  her  moved  him  as  he  had  never  been  moved 
in  his  life.  Although  at  another  time  he  might  have 
taken  her  on  any  terms,  at  this  instant  he  rose  to  the 
degree  of  nobility  equal  to  her  own. 

"If  you  ever  marry  me,  dear,  you  must  have  in 
your  heart  what  you  think  you  ought  to  have." 

In  her  turn  Elpis  raised  his  hand  to  her  lips. 


CHAPTER  XLV 

THE   LAST   CHAPTER 

early  in  the  morning,  two  days  later,  a 

T  closed  carriage  drove  rapidly  through  the  vil 
lages  along  the  Asiatic  coast  of  the  Bosphorus.  It 
stopped  at  a  side  gate  of  the  Paparighopoulos  place, 
and  the  eunuch  on  the  box  beside  the  driver  sprang 
down  and  opened  the  door. 

Millicent  Grey,  clothed  like  a  Turkish  woman, 
stepped  forth.  She  held  out  her  hand  to  the  yash- 
maked  woman  inside. 

"  Good-bye ! "  she  said.  "  I  cannot  imagine  why  you 
should  have  done  this  for  me.  I  can  only  thank  you." 

"Good-bye,  young  American  hanoum.  Tell  the 
child  of  Xenophon  Effendi  that  she  may  always  come 
to  me  when  she  needs  help  —  only  when  she  needs 
help.  Good-bye!" 

The  eunuch  closed  the  door,  and  the  carriage  drove 
off  as  rapidly  as  it  had  come. 

"What  a  strange  sort  of  woman,"  Millicent  mur 
mured,  looking  after  it.  "It  must  have  been  a  con 
siderable  risk  for  her  to  rescue  me.  I  suppose  she  is  a 
friend  of  Elpis.  Dear  Elpis!  I  wonder  if  she  is  ex 
pecting  me." 

Millicent  passed  through  the  gateway,  and  hurried 


THE   LAST  CHAPTER  311 

up  the  path,  impatient  to  see  her  friend  again.  In  the 
dewy  morning,  with  the  familiar  garden  about  her, 
she  had  to  glance  down  at  her  own  attire  to  make  her 
self  believe  that  all  her  adventure  in  the  Palace  had 
been  more  than  an  ugly  dream  of  the  previous  night, 
from  which  she  had  awakened  to  her  ordinary  life. 

Yet  the  large  gardens  appeared  singularly  deserted. 
Usually  the  men  were  at  work  in  them  long  before  this 
time.  When  she  came  in  sight  of  the  villa  she  further 
noticed  that  its  shutters  were  closed,  and  that  the 
porches  were  devoid  of  their  comfort  of  chairs  and 
rugs.  An  indefinable  air  of  desolation  hung  over  the 
whole  place,  and  Millicent  hastened  on,  fearing  lest 
its  inmates  might  all  have  gone  away.  She  rang  the 
bell,  and  was  relieved  to  hear  footsteps  approaching. 
The  butler  opened  the  door,  and  the  joy  and  pleasure 
which  came  into  his  countenance  was  matched  by  the 
relief  in  her  own  at  finding  this  indication  of  the  usual 
habitation  of  the  place. 

"Miss  Grey!"  cried  the  man,  almost  moved  out  of 
his  official  decorum.  "  Miss  Elpis  is  in  the  upper  hall." 

Millicent  flew  past  him,  in  her  intense  delight  at 
finding  Elpis  here  paying  no  attention  to  the  aspect  of 
the  darkened  hall,  where  every  piece  of  furniture  was 
covered  with  black,  and  the  perfume  of  many  flower- 
wreaths  mingled  with  the  scent  of  incense. 

In  the  upper  hall  Elpis,  in  a  black  robe,  was  direct 
ing  half  a  dozen  women  who  were  sewing  on  black 


312         IN   THE   SHADOW   OF   ISLAM 

draperies.  At  sight  of  them,  Millicent  hesitated;  but 
Elpis,  dropping  the  crepe  she  was  holding,  gazed  at 
her  for  an  instant  as  if  she  could  not  believe  her  eyes, 
and  then  rushed  to  her  and  threw  her  arms  around  her. 

"My  very  dearest  one!"  she  cried,  touching  her 
arms  and  shoulders  to  make  sure  it  was  a  real  Milli 
cent  and  not  a  vision. 

The  warmth  of  the  greeting  dispelled  the  misgiv 
ings  that  had  come  over  the  American  girl,  and  quite 
happily  she  let  Elpis  lead  her  to  her  old  quarters, 
where  the  Greek  girl  again  gave  her  an  affectionate 
hug;  then  held  her  off  at  arms'  length,  crying:  — 

;'You  really  here!  And  safe  —  sound?" 

Millicent  only  answered  with  a  long  sigh  of  content. 

"And  how  did  you  get  out?" 

"In  the  middle  of  last  night  I  waked  up  suddenly. 
A  tall  old  woman  was  there.  'Come  with  me,'  she 
said.  She  muffled  me  up  till  I  could  hardly  see.  Some 
thing  in  her  manner  made  me  feel  that  she  meant  me 
no  harm,  so  I  did  exactly  as  I  was  told.  Oh !  you  don't 
know  how  I  tried  to  keep  down  the  hope  that  I  was 
going  to  be  freed,  as  we  crept  out  into  the  cool  night, 
and  over  the  grass  to  a  little  gate  in  a  tall  wall.  Out 
side  was  a  carriage,  and  we  drove  along  way  to  a  boat. 
After  we  crossed  the  Bosphorus  there  was  another 
carriage,  and  -  -  Oh !  I  almost  forgot  something  she 
told  me  to  tell  you,"  and  Millicent  delivered  the 
message  of  the  old  woman  to  Elpis. 


THE   LAST   CHAPTER  313 

"And  Princess  Leila  did  you  no  harm  all  the  time 
she  had  you  prisoner?" 

"W-e-1-1,"  Millicent  began  a  trifle  doubtfully;  but 
the  bubbling  joy  of  being  safe  with  her  friends  again 
was  too  much  for  her.  She  threw  back  her  head  and 
laughed,  and  as  she  did  so  her  scarf  fell  from  her 
hair. 

;' Your  hair!  Your  lovely  hair!"  Elpis  cried. 

Millicent  laughed  again. 

;'Yes,  it  suffered  —  vicariously.  Princess  Leila 
told  me  that  she  was  going  to  disfigure  me  so  that  no 
man  would  ever  care  to  look  at  me  again.  She  began 
by  cutting  off  my  hair." 

"Did  she  do  nothing  else?" 

Millicent  held  out  her  hands.  On  her  wrist  were  the 
red  marks  of  chains. 

"That  wasn't  very  bad,"  she  said  cheerfully, 
"though  I  did  hate  the  feeling  of  being  perfectly 
helpless.  Well,  I  came  over  here  thinking  I  should  be 
able  to  teach  the  women  of  the  East.  I  have  only 
learned  myself.  But,  Elpis,  why  are  you  in  black?  Is 
Mitro— ?" 

"No,  he  was  only  wounded.  He  will  recover."  She 
stopped  and  considered  for  a  minute.  Yet  there  was 
no  use  in  trying  to  hide  it  from  Millicent.  "My 
brother  is  dead." 

"Mr.  Righo!"  Millicent  cried,  horrified.  "When? 
How?" 


314         IN  THE   SHADOW  OF  ISLAM 

"Two  days  ago.  I  will  tell  you  some  day  how  he 
died  —  not  now." 

Millicent  fell  on  her  knees  before  Elpis,  and  the  two 
girls  clung  to  each  other  for  an  instant.  Then  Elpis 
gently  pushed  her  away,  and  rose  to  her  feet. 

"If  you  would  like  to  see  him,  come  now  with  me; 
for  in  a  short  time  they  will  be  here  to  take  him." 

Elpis  took  Millicent  down  to  the  largest  of  the 
reception-rooms.  It  was  all  draped  in  black  and 
wreaths  of  flowers  were  on  every  piece  of  furniture. 
In  the  middle  of  the  room  stood  a  black  velvet  coffin, 
heavily  ornamented  with  silver.  Torches  were  burn 
ing  at  the  head  and  foot,  and  Niko  Paparighopoulos, 
dressed  as  if  for  a  reception,  with  a  flower  in  his  but 
tonhole,  and  the  ikon  of  his  patron  saint  on  his 
crossed  hands,  was  sleeping  his  last  sleep  and  receiv 
ing  his  last  human  homage. 

Millicent  put  her  arm  through  that  of  Elpis,  and 
the  two  girls  drew  near  the  coffin. 

"So  much  I  can  tell  you,"  Elpis  said  at  last.  "  His 
death  was  worth  while." 

As  they  were  standing  thus,  the  door  opened,  and 
Mitro  advanced  painfully  toward  the  coffin. 

"Mitro!  Haven't  the  doctors  forbidden  you  to 
move?"  Elpis  cried,  running  toward  him. 

Without  disrespect  he  waved  her  aside,  and  came 
to  his  dead  master.  He  placed  both  his  hands  on  the 
body  of  Niko  Paparighopoulos,  saying  solemnly:  - 


THE  LAST  CHAPTER  315 

"So  thou  art  dead,  and  the  Turks  have  killed  thee. 
But  thou  shalt  not  turn  to  ashes  unavenged.  There 
are  ten  knives  in  my  belt  and  each  of  them  shall  be 
dyed  with  Turkish  blood  —  each  shall  send  to  his 
grave  a  faithless  Turk.  I  swear  it  to  thee." 

Three  times  he  made  the  sign  of  the  cross ;  then  bent 
and  kissed  the  dead  man's  face  and  the  ikon  on  his 
folded  hands. 

'To  thee,  Christian  God,  who  ought  to  be  reigning 
here,  to  thee  I  make  my  oath." 

A  distant  fusillade  disturbed  the  heavy  silence. 

Elpis  went  to  the  window  and  stood  listening. 

There  was  a  second  fusillade,  and  then  a  third. 

"It  is  beginning,"  Elpis  said  tensely.  ''Turkey's 
supreme  hour  has  come."  She  clung  to  Millicent  as  if 
for  protection.  "I  cannot  feel  trust  in  the  Young 
Turks:  I  am  afraid  —  afraid  for  all  the  Christians, 
and  especially  for  the  Greeks." 

There  was  more  sound  of  firing,  which  seemed  to 
shake  Elpis  to  the  very  centre  of  her  being. 

In  an  awed  tone  she  went  on,  as  if  she  were  one  of 
the  Greek  maidens  of  ancient  times  looking  darkly 
into  the  future:— 

"What  will  be  the  outcome  of  the  revolution?  Will 
it  mean  the  regeneration  of  Turkey  —  or  will  it  mean 
at  last  the  end  of  the  Turks  in  Europe?" 

THE    END 


(Cfte  fiiber^ibe 

CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U    .    S    .   A 


University  of  California 
SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

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ft     ..from  which  it  was  borrowed. 

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